


Spinning Gold

by Rhiannon1199



Series: Spinning Gold [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Broken Families, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Failed Marriage, Marriage, Skyrim Main Quest, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 42,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon1199/pseuds/Rhiannon1199
Summary: Eira Galethien did not want to be some legendary hero destined to slay the World-Eater. She did not want the fate of the world to be placed in her hands. But the gods demanded her destiny be fulfilled.When she entered the Thalmor Embassy, she recognised the commander from Markarth immediately. He flashed her a smile as she approached the bar to discuss the plans with Malborn. The perfect agent for the distraction that would let her slip out unseen.Or so she thought, until she escaped the embassy and took off to find her family. Whether Ondolemar would give away her identity willingly or by force, the decision placed her and her family in great danger.But when Eira dares show her face in Understone Keep again, she has to fight to save herself, her family, and the one she dragged into her mess. With Ondolemar now a fugitive from the Thalmor and entirely dependent on the woman who ruined his life, Alduin may be the least of their worries.Takes place after the quest 'Diplomatic Immunity'.





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I have ever written, so I hope it isn't too dreadful. 
> 
> The story is based off my current character, who has also become my favourite. The irony of an Altmer dragonborn was irresistible.
> 
> The title refers to the relationship dynamics between the characters. You can't spin gold from straw.
> 
> I'm an original writer so fanfiction is foreign territory to me. Any feedback would be much appreciated :)

I watched Malborn frantically scramble his way through the snowdrifts away from the narrow passage we had just exited. I turned to Etienne, who thanked me for helping him when I had not needed to, and watched him go on his way towards Katla's Farm. 

Where was the road to Whiterun? I had been foolish not to have left a horse in Solitude for a quick escape. Bells were ringing from the embassy above, torchlight shimmering on the snow, and Altmer voices cried out into the night. I had to get away fast. 

I hurtled down the mountainside, slipping and scraping my arms on the jagged rocks. The Karth estuary came into sight, gleaming in the light of the moons. The road down here terminated at the mill, and I did not dare take the road to Dragon Bridge; it would be crawling with Thalmor by now. I had but one escape route, and it could kill me. 

I ran down to the mill, quietened by the night, and paused. If I turned back and tried to get back to Katla's Farm now, I was bound to be caught. I could hear the quickening pace of horse's hooves and bellowed commands coming closer. The river was freezing, but I had a chance. If I was to die today, better the river claimed me than I spent the rest of my days in a Thalmor interrogation chamber.

I removed my boots and shuddered at the cold of the mud against my skin. Then I drew a deep breath, and ran into the river. The water soaked through my clothes, chilling my bones. I was only a quarter of the way across when my muscles began to cramp from the cold, and I panicked, my breathing growing rapid. 

A small island loomed ahead of me. I powered towards it in a surge of motivation, the cramps agonising, my head spinning. After clawing my way onto its muddy shore I collapsed, trying to catch my breath. The dossiers I had retrieved from the embassy were soaked through, the writing smeared, and I cursed. At least I had read them before. Delphine would have to take my word for it. 

Summoning a healing spell, I felt warmth spread through my body, relieving my aching muscles. I could see the light of spells along the shore, illuminating figures in the distinctive black robes I had known all my life. I had grown up without a mother - both she and my father were Thalmor commanders, and she had died shortly after I was born. My father was never the same after that. He became distant and cold, fixated on his career. When I came of age he made me join the Thalmor, trying to satisfy my love of alchemy with a role as a healer in their ranks. I never liked their methods, so I ran away, travelled through Hammerfell and Cyrodiil to sell potions, and eventually here to Skyrim, where I was caught in the middle of an ambush and sent to the chopping block. I had come to realise quite soon after leaving Auridon that the Thalmor would have those living in the Dominion believe a variety of falsehoods about the world beyond, not least that the races of men were savages, inferior to elvenkind. In fact, their short lives made them live more vigorously, and love more strongly, than most elves could ever hope to.

I took another deep breath and looked across the estuary towards Hjaalmarch again. My family was over there, in Windstad Manor, unaware of my proximity to them and what danger I had created for them. I had to report back to Riverwood as soon as possible and tell Delphine what I'd found. The quickest route to Whiterun from there was via Morthal. But first, I needed to safeguard my husband and children. I dived into the water again, hoping the warmth of my spell would hold. 

My muscles didn't cramp, and I swam quickly, but that didn't stop the slaughterfish. I felt the water ripple around me and sharp teeth bite into my ankles, and I suppressed a cry of pain. The shore was approaching. I powered on through the cold and the relentless attacks of the slaughterfish, feeling hot blood seeping into the water. 

I finally hauled myself onto the marsh of Hjaalmarch. I looked back towards Solitude again, now distant and rising out of the mist. I thought of the men and women I had killed, watching their lives fade away. When I had realised how the Thalmor had brainwashed us, I had hated them. I'd wanted every single one of them dead. But now I only felt sorrow that they too had fallen into that state of mind. I wondered what they would do if they found out who I was, or rather, what I was. To escape the 'material prison' as they called it, they had only to kill me, and let Alduin swallow the world. 

I had found myself wondering if the world was supposed to end. I had seen and heard so much suffering - war, plagues, murder, rape, genocide, and all that the Daedra inflicted, and all that the Aedra allowed. All that would end if Alduin completed his destiny. And even if I did kill him, it would only postpone the end of days. He would return, with or without a Dragonborn to challenge him. Some might have told me that Akatosh had made me Dragonborn to give the world a chance to carry on. Perhaps it was for me to decide if it deserved to go on, and either slay Alduin, or let him devour us all. In the end I decided to let my heart rule. 

I stood and walked in the direction of Windstad Manor, trudging through the marsh in bare feet. My teeth chattered madly, and I felt the cold sinking deep into my flesh. I had to get inside quickly before the frostbite set in, or I wouldn't be going anywhere fast. I'd almost had it once already, whilst travelling to Winterhold from Windhelm. My fingers were turning blue by the time I reached the College, and Brelyna spent over an hour trying to get me warm. 

Finally the torchlight appeared through the twisted, dead trees. I sighed with relief and ploughed on through the mud towards the house. To my surprise, Vilkas was outside, tending to the horses. He startled at my approach, and then raced towards me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. 

'Eira,' he murmured, stroking my hair. 'By Ysmir, you're freezing. What - ?'

'There's no time,' I said to him, pulling away from his warmth reluctantly. 'Get the children. We have to leave. Now.'

'What's going on?'

'I'll explain on the way. Pack light, and make sure the girls have cloaks on.' 

I rushed into the house and darted to the hearth, stretching out my cold-stiffened arms. Sonir eyed me strangely and put her flute down on the table as Sofie and Sissel bustled out of their room to see me.

'Mama!' they cried, voices joyful but faltering at the sight of me, dripping wet, covered in mud and probably bleeding in several places. 

'Are...are you okay, Mama?' asked Sofie. I smiled as best I could.

'Yes, I'm alright.' I drew away from the hearth to bend down to their eye level - they were tall for Nord girls, but only reached my waist. 'Listen, I know this is sudden, but we need to move. I want you to get some warm clothes on and get in the carriage.' 

'Why?' 

'Because I said so.' I turned to Vilkas, who lingered uncertainly in the doorway beside Valdimar. 

'We need to leave,' I said again. Valdimar disappeared into the room for a moment and emerged with cloaks and fur boots for the girls.

'Come, children,' he said. 'Do as your mother says. Get these on.' He looked at me and gave a curt nod. 'I will take them to the carriage, Thane.' I muttered my thanks and beckoned Vilkas upstairs to our bedroom.

'Are you going to tell me what's going on now?' He hissed. 'I've not heard from you for weeks, and now you suddenly come crawling out of the marsh and we have to leave.' I sighed. 

'You remember I went to see the Greybeards all that time ago, and they sent me to find some horn in Ustengrav? Well, after my last letter to you - when I sacked Castle Volkihar with the Dawnguard, and Serana went to get cured - I finally decided to get it. Only when I got to the burial chamber, the horn was gone, and a note was left in its place telling me to go to Riverwood. I did, and I met Delphine, one of the last remaining members of the Blades.'

'The Blades?' he echoed. 'The protectors of the Septim emperors?'

'More than that,' I said. 'They're dragonslayers with Akaviri roots. They protected the Septims because they protected the Dragonborn. That's why she wanted to find me. She seemed to think that the Thalmor were behind the dragons coming back. So we made a plan.'

'Oh gods, what have you done?'

'I infiltrated the Thalmor Embassy. The First Emissary throws these parties for the rich and influential. An inside contact helped me in. I had to find out what they knew, which turns out to be about as much as we do.'

'So what's the problem?' he said. 'You could be anyone. They won't find you.'

I blew out a long breath. 'That's...not the case. I managed to avoid giving the First Emissary my name, but I may have asked a Thalmor acquaintance to make a distraction for me.'

'Damn it!' he growled. 'What acquaintances do you have in the Thalmor?' 

'Before we were married, I went to Markarth on a job for Aela,' I explained. 'That's where I met him. His name is Ondolemar. He's the commander of the Thalmor Justiciars.'

Vilkas' mouth hung open in shock and anger. 'Of all the people at this party you could have dragged into it, you chose a Thalmor commander?!'

'I didn't know anyone else!' I argued. 'Look, every minute we spend here increases the likelihood of being found.'

'We'll be found anyway!' Vilkas exclaimed. 'Gods, what were you thinking?! If these Blades are supposed to protect you, why would they send you on a mission that endangers both you and your family?!' 

'For the love of Auriel, I've had enough of this,' I spat. 'Get your stuff and get in the carriage.' He glared at me, but said no more. 

I went to my wardrobe and grabbed some dry, clean clothes, a set of robes with a sand-coloured hood and some leather boots. I changed quickly and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on my boots, watching Vilkas march down the stairs. I seized the knapsack on the end of the bed and stuffed in it a few soul gems, some apples and bread for the children, a copy of 'An Explorer's Guide to Skyrim' and some healing potions. 

Valdimar awaited me at the door. 'They're all ready to go, my Thane.'

'Thank you, Valdimar,' I said. 'If anyone comes here inquiring after me, tell them I'm away. If they want to search the house, don't challenge them. Let them in, don't speak to them unless they speak to you, don't draw your weapons. Do nothing that will put you and Sonir at risk.'

'As you command.' I put a hand on his shoulder as I passed and walked out into the night. 

Vilkas had Sofie and Sissel on either side, bundled into blankets. He watched me approach, his eyes glinting. The moons were passing out of sight behind the mountains, but the aurora lit up the sky with green fire. I paused before Engar, the driver.

'How quickly can you get us to Riverwood?' I asked. 

'I can get you there by dawn,' he replied.

'Good,' I said, climbing into the back of the carriage. The girls were asleep, leaning against Vilkas. I watched their peaceful faces as Engar tapped the horse's rear and we set off.


	2. Return to Markarth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Damn that disgrace to elvenkind. Dragging me into her plans. A prank? What kind of prank entails butchering half of the embassy's staff, stealing important documents, and freeing the prisoners? What if someone saw me speaking with her before she left? My stomach was knotting with fear. I didn't look back at the embassy once as we left for Markarth.

Shaking off the thought of what Elenwen might do to me if she discovered I had any part to play in the matter, I tried to calm myself. Even if someone had seen me talking to Eira Galethien, the wretch, they had no evidence that I was part of her little plan. For all they knew, she could have been telling me that Razelan had been insulting the Thalmor, and that prompted the outburst I had staged. I might have just as much been a victim. I was a victim in my own way. I had been one of the Thalmor long enough to know what happened to those suspected of even a hint of treachery. We seemed to operate on a 'no smoke without fire' philosophy, and only now did I see the injustice of it. 

My guards were both watching me intently, and I glared at them from under my hood. They averted their eyes immediately, and so they should. I might have yelled at them for it if I had the energy, but the events of the previous night had left me drained. 

Hours passed before Markarth's entrance came into sight. I never thought I'd actually miss it like I did. Well, I probably only thought I had missed it because it put a fair distance between myself and Elenwen, and I could go back to my duties and act as if nothing suspicious had happened. 

It was late afternoon, and the city was about as busy as Markarth ever gets. The same old hostile faces. Those Redguard jewellers were some of the worst, and even the child went to extra effort to fix me a venomous glare. I glared right back at them. Hammerfell trash. They would be worse than the Nords, if it weren't for the fact that the latter were all heretics. 

All the steps did my legs no favours, and I saw my guards huffing loudly at either side. 

'Shut up and stand up straight,' I barked. 'You're representing the Dominion. Act like it.'

They did as they were told, of course. They were terrified of me, as they should be. A few city guards passed by, giving me a wide berth. I knew there was something awfully strange going on in this city, especially where the guards were concerned, but I left such matters to the Jarl. They left me be, so I did the same. Besides, I had my own business. 

We passed the shrine of Talos that not many people had been visiting since my arrival in the city. Those who were seen visiting by my eyes in the city would wake up the following morning in the company of my Justiciars, far from home. I would have shut the shrine down if it were not the perfect hunting ground.

We entered the Keep, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the smell of damp stones and rusty metal that forever lingered in the air. It was cold and dark as always. How did I end up so far from my beloved homeland, and in a place so wretched? Sometimes I wished I had never taken the promotion that landed me in Skyrim. At least then I would never have met that accursed woman, and wouldn't be fearing for my life.

Surely I was being paranoid, I reminded myself. I ascended yet another flight of stairs and gave my greetings to Jarl Igmund.

'Glad to see you made it back safe,' he said to me, an edge in his voice. I narrowed my eyes and looked between him, his steward and the Redguard woman who protected him, all of whom bore the same uneasy expression.

'Indeed,' I said, turning away from them and heading right, my guards tailing me. I huffed in annoyance and dismissed them, telling them to leave me in peace. I sat by one of the stone tables randomly placed in the keep's upper level, massaging my temples. 

Sighing, I decided I ought to start dealing with all the work I had been assigned - Elenwen had seized the opportunity for immediate communication and handed me a wad of writs, warrants and various other orders. I took them out of my pocket and flicked through them. Another letter from Sanyon regarding some shrine near Lake Ilinalta that he was convinced existed, an order to send someone to replace the deceased insider at the College of Winterhold, and at the back, an urgent warrant for the live capture and questioning of Eira Galethien. Hmph. 

The warrant caught my attention, as I realised I felt reluctant to order anyone to locate and arrest her. I found myself wondering why, after she placed my position (and in fact, my life) in such danger, my sole wish was not to see harm come to her. I concluded that I felt that as an Altmer, she could have her views and goals corrected and realigned. 

Not that I didn't resent the woman for all she'd done, but I had been cut off from my own people for so long. My guards were too afraid to talk to me, and even if they weren't, I couldn't imagine either of them would offer a decent conversation. On the occasions that I attended Elenwen's parties, I spent most of the time lingering at the back, observing. Eira had been the only other Altmer who had showed any interest in talking to me over the past few months. Gods, she even trusted me, as she made clear the previous day by asking me to divert everyone's attention for her. She could have asked the drunkard who fell victim to my false rage. Or anyone else she might have known. 

However, if someone had seen me speaking with her, and reported it as suspicious, ordering for her arrest might save me. That would prove I was no accomplice of hers. 

I decided to leave the matter for now, and placed the warrant at the bottom of the pile.


	3. Arrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

When I had walked into Understone Keep after exterminating an ice wraith in Endon's house, I had walked straight through Ondolemar's path. He had stopped and waited in that exact spot, watching and listening as I spoke to the Jarl's steward, looking for work that didn't involve clearing out animal dens or killing escaped criminals. I took the chance to get rid of a Forsworn leader who had been causing trouble and went to walk out again, but he was blocking my way, staring at me. He told me to halt, and introduced himself as a member of the Thalmor, as if I should care. I guess he must have thought a fellow Altmer would respect that. He scoffed when I said I assumed he wasn't from Markarth, and asked me to complete a task for him - fetch evidence of Talos worship from the home of some old man called Ogmund. I didn't want any harm to befall poor Ogmund, but I knew better than to say no to a Thalmor official with a Jarl in their pocket, so I went to Ogmund's house, found an amulet, delivered it to him, and went on my way. I felt his eyes trailing me as I left, and I knew if I glanced back I would see him watching. So I didn't. I walked out, went to finish my job for the steward, and didn't see him when I returned for the bounty. 

These memories whirred through my mind as I swayed nauseatingly in the carriage that bore me to Markarth. After I had delivered the Blades loremaster, Esbern, to Riverwood, I had agreed to meet him and Delphine at the location of Sky Haven Temple in the Reach. Delphine had advised taking the carriage to Markarth rather than travelling across the border between the Reach and Whiterun hold alone. I wondered if Ondolemar was in Understone Keep now, or if I had got him into trouble, and he was stuck in a Thalmor interrogation chamber. He'd warned me that he was putting his reputation on the line for me, but if he had known the extent of my plans, I'm sure he would have been concerned for more than that. I felt obliged to apologise to him for dragging him into my business, so when we finally arrived at Markarth's gate, I decided to go to Understone Keep. It wouldn't hurt to pick up some supplies anyway. 

Inside the city I stopped at the inn to grab some ale and food for the road, before taking a deep breath and hiking up the steps to the keep. For once, ascending to the upper districts of the city was a relief to my travel-stiffened limbs. I stretched as I reached the top and paused before the door into the keep. 

'Problem?' said one of the guards.

'No,' I replied. 'No, not at all.' I frowned at the guard as I passed her into the keep. There was definitely something strange at work in Markarth.

The keep smelled as it always did, like any other Dwemer ruin might have smelled if not for the reek of the Falmer who haunted their depths. Ondolemar wasn't pacing in front of the Jarl's throne like he normally did, and I panicked for a moment, before concluding he was probably in his quarters sorting through documents. Only residents of the keep were supposed to go down there, but I snuck past the guard stationed outside when his back was turned. I crept towards the tiny room that the commander shared with his guards and the Imperial legate. 

He was in there after all, on his own. I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding and approached. He didn't look up from where he sat scrawling messy writing onto paper, his head resting on his left hand. 

'Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?' he snapped, not even turning his head. 'How am I supposed to get all this done if you keep intruding?'

'Good afternoon, Ondolemar,' I said. I flinched as he pressed his quill into the paper and it snapped, bleeding ink all over the page. He turned around slowly, glaring, his eyes full of silent rage.

'Absolutely no time for lowlifes these days. Go away.' I huffed as he turned back to his desk and cursed at the enormous blob of ink that now covered half of his writing.

'I came to apologise,' I said. 

'Apologise?' he hissed, looking up at me again. 'Do you have any idea what you've done? You abused my trust, murdered my colleagues, and put my life on the line for whatever ends your little plan amounted to. Now leave me alone, or I'll have you thrown in Cidhna Mine.'

'Ondolemar - '

'OUT!'

'Fine. I tried.' I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, not bothering to sneak past the guard again. If he wanted to be like that, then that was his choice. Not that I thought he had it in him to throw me in Cidhna Mine, but I wasn't taking any chances, and I had places to be. 

As I rounded the corner, I was met with the familiar sight of black robes and glass armour. Instinctively I dived back behind the wall and placed my back against it. I drew up my hood to hide my face and listened.

'We have a warrant for his arrest,' said a firm Altmer voice. 'We have received intelligence of his involvement in an assault against the Thalmor.'

'Let them take him, Igmund,' said Faleen. 'We don't exactly reap many benefits with him skulking around the keep all day.' 

'Be warned,' said the Altmer. 'If you wish to have the support of the Emperor, you are expected to co-operate with the Thalmor. Failure to do so could result in your replacement with someone more...compliant.'

'Very well,' I heard Igmund say. 'Arrest him. I assume you'll be sending a replacement?'

'If we deem it necessary,' said the voice. Footsteps sounded against the stone floors now, approaching rapidly. I darted towards the steward's quarters and hid behind the door, trying to still my breathing. I couldn't let them arrest Ondolemar because of something I had done. 

After the footsteps had passed, I crept into the hallway and shadowed the Thalmor that trudged through the hall. They swung open the door to Ondolemar's quarters and the soldiers stood to attention.

'Commander Ondolemar, leader of the Thalmor in Markarth, Head of the Justiciars in Skyrim?' said their leader, the wizard whose voice I'd heard before.

'Can I help you?' came the drawling reply. 

'You have been accused of facilitating the deaths of seven Thalmor soldiers, three Justiciars and two wizards in military employment, as well as knowingly aiding an enemy of the Aldmeri Dominion, the Blades agent known as Eira Galethien.' I stepped as quietly as I could, nearing the soldiers, stopping at a short distance to fire my spell. 'We hereby place you under custody of the Thalmor, and strip you of your position and titles until further notice. You can either come quietly, or we can drag you.' 

Ondolemar laughed coldly. 'I knew it was only a matter of time. I don't suppose there's any use in pleading my innocence.' 

'That's - '

Their leader didn't have time to finish speaking before I hurled a ball of fire at him and the soldiers. He screamed as his robes went up in flames, and the soldiers turned, advancing on me. I shouted them back with Unrelenting Force, and their weapons clattered out of their hands as they crashed against the wall. Ondolemar ran out into the hall and swung his mace into one of the soldier's heads, crushing their head against the wall, splattering blood and brains over the stonework. I disintegrated another, and another, as the guards came swarming to the area, unsure whether to intervene or not. 

When the last one lay dead, my eyes met Ondolemar's. His expression was grim and sorrowful as he beheld the carnage. 

'What is the meaning of this?!' exclaimed Faleen, who emerged from behind the guards. I drew shock magic into my hands, narrowing my eyes at her. 

'Let us pass,' I ordered.

'No,' she growled. 'You're under arrest. Both of you.'

'Ha!' I gave her a cold grin. 'Don't tell me that Markarth's Redguard housecarl has developed a desire to align her interests with those of the Thalmor.'

'We have to co-operate or else - '

'Enough, Faleen,' said Igmund's voice as he too pushed through the group. 'Eira has done me many favours, the likes of which coin cannot pay for. We owe her a debt.'

'My Jarl - '

'I said enough!' He looked at me, and then at Ondolemar, who lingered a distance from me at the edge of my vision. 'Go. We'll deal with that lot. If anyone asks, you left before they got here, and they were found dead outside the gates.'

'Thank you,' I said to Igmund, smiling as the guards parted to let us through. 

We walked in silence out of the keep, and all the way through the city. People stared in awe at us, probably because we were covered in blood, and the man they hated most was walking beside a woman whose stories of adventure had reached all corners of the province. When we reached the city gate, I stopped and turned to face him.

'I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to happen,' I said, prompting a snort and shake of his head. 'But it has happened. Yes, it's my fault, and as I've already said, I'm sorry. I can provide you with refuge, or you can try your luck alone. Your choice.'

'Choice?' he echoed. 'Don't act as if I have a choice. I barely know this accursed country.'

'So you'll come with me?'

'Yes,' he sighed.

'Good. Go to the Silver-Blood Inn and wait for me.'

'Where are you going?' he demanded. 

'To get you something less distinctive to wear.'


	4. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Eira's 'less distinctive' clothing involved me pulling on tatty robes befitting of a mere apprentice wizard, not a competent user of destruction magic such as myself. Luckily for her, I was hardly in the mood for complaining about petty things; I had known some of the faces who turned up to apprehend me. My own guards had fallen in amongst them when they arrived. One of them took my mace to his head, and the other one was reduced to ashes by Eira's magic. 

She walked ahead of me, leading me through the savage stretches of the Reach. Apparently we were headed for some place called 'Sky Haven Temple' on a mountain next to the Karth river. Crawling with Forsworn, no doubt. 

'Where are you from?' she said, looking back at me. 

'Skywatch,' I answered bluntly, without asking her the same. 

'My mother was from Skywatch,' she said. 

'How interesting,' I drawled, not bothering to hide my nonchalance. 'Do tell me more.'

She fixed me a glare. 'She's also dead.' 

Ah. Maybe I should have guessed by the way she said 'was'. 'I apologise,' I muttered, averting my eyes from hers.

'Whatever. I barely remember her anyway. I was mostly raised by a nanny.'

'How did she die?'

'Fighting dissidents.'

'She was in the Thalmor?'

'Yes. Both she and my father were commanders.' Eira's expression changed, her nose flaring with disgust. 'I was a Thalmor healer myself, once.'

Surprised, I raised my eyebrows and watched her face fold into a frown. 'What made you leave?'

She glanced at me, then at the ground. 'There wasn't a war on, so my job mostly involved being in the interrogation chambers. They would be tortured within an inch of their lives, then I would heal them, so that they could torture them again and again. I hated it. The Thalmor did that to their own people, who they were supposedly protectors of.'

I lowered my head, thinking of all the hours I had spent in the interrogation chambers back in Hammerfell, long before I was posted to Skyrim. Countless people were tortured on my orders, and I'd been required to be present for each and every one. At the time I was little more than a boy who had quickly risen through the ranks because of my father pulling strings. I would leave the chambers when the victim was dead and vomit over and over again until I thought I'd bring up my own insides. I learned not to eat on the day of an interrogation to make it more bearable, but that didn't stop the nightmares. Their faces, their screaming, their limp bodies haunted me in my dreams, and intruded in my waking hours, flashes of horror in my mind. At one point, I'd thought about running away. It was my family who encouraged me, telling me that one day I'd have a more comfortable job in the higher ranks. I suppose I did have that until a few hours ago. The only difference was that I ordered the torture from further away, and didn't have to watch it and deal with the consequences of my orders. 

For the first time in decades, I felt guilt. 

I cleared my throat to change the subject. 'I didn't realise you could Shout. Did the Greybeards teach you?'

She seemed to ponder the question for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. 'No.'

'Then who?'

'Nobody.'

'That's impossible.'

'No it isn't.' She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. 'We'll have plenty of time to discuss this later. For now, let's keep quiet. There are Forsworn in these hills.'

Sky Haven Temple turned out to be a little over an hour's walk from Markarth. The journey had been quiet, maybe too quiet. A bear had been the only threat, quickly dealt with. No Forsworn in sight. 

The temple, by contrast, was crawling with natives. Their camp spanned both sides of the river. Eira cursed as we headed towards the distinctive Akaviri bridge that lead to the Karthspire. 

'Psst!' came a harsh voice. We looked to our right and saw two figures emerge from behind a cluster of rocks, a woman in leather armour and a simply clothed old man. 

'Where have you been?' demanded the woman. 'We've been waiting here for hours!' 

Eira caught my eye, then looked back at the woman. 'It's a long story.'

The woman seemed to notice me for the first time, and narrowed her eyes, a hand on the longsword that hung from her belt. 'Who's this?'

Eira sighed. 'If we tell you, you have to swear you'll let him come.'

The woman looked to her accomplice, who was frowning. Her face hardened. 'I'm not promising anything.'

'Delphine,' said the old man, a warning tone in his voice. 

Delphine folded her arms. 'Fine. You have my word.' 

'This is Ondolemar,' she began. 'He's...well...he was a Thalmor commander.'

'What?!' hissed Delphine. 'You brought the Thalmor here?!' She drew her sword, pointing it at Eira's heart, then at mine, then back at Eira's, taking a step back. 'You're working for them, aren't you? I should have known an Altmer would betray us!'

Eira stood tall and straight, curling fists into balls. 'If you don't calm down, I'll Shout you into the Karth and leave you to the Forsworn. Put the sword away before you make me hurt you.' 

'Delphine,' said the old man again, more softly this time. 'I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation for whatever's going on here. Put the sword away.' 

Delphine looked between the two of us before cursing under her breath and placing the longsword back in its scabbard. 

'Thank you, Esbern,' said Eira. 'As I said, Ondolemar was formerly a Thalmor commander. His allegiance no longer lies with them.' 

'And why is that?' Delphine demanded, turning to me. 'What made you leave?'

'I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter,' I answered, knowing from the roll of Eira's eyes that it was not the right response. 'I was drawn into your assault on the embassy against my will, and they attempted to arrest me for it about two hours ago.' 

'So you're telling me you've only _not_ been a Thalmor for two hours?' She turned back to Eira. 'What's the matter with you?'

'I trust him,' she said. 'And last I checked, the Blades swore loyalty to me, not the other way around.' 

'You're the Blades?' I jeered. 'This is all that's left of the former protectors of the Septim emperors?' 

'You aren't helping,' snapped Eira. 

'How dare you,' Delphine raged. 'It was your little regime that hunted us down and destroyed us!' 

'Not me,' I protested. 'The dissolution of the Blades was never my task.'

'Am I supposed to be grateful for that?'

'Can we stop this now?' Eira intervened. 'It's cold, I'm hungry, I'm bored, and I want to get to this gods-forsaken temple before - '

An arrow rushed past and clattered against the rocks. My right hand went to my mace, the other pulled magicka from my blood to form ice. A torrent of arrows raced towards us, and I felt someone grab my sleeve and pull me away from the fire of the Forsworn. 

'To the bridge!' yelled Eira, sprinting ahead. 

I remember wondering for a moment why we were rushing towards their camp instead of away from it, until I saw the Forsworn pack themselves onto the bridge, crowding together as Eira charged in and unleashed another Shout. Flames roared from her mouth, and I stared in awe of her power; she was literally breathing fire. 

Screams erupted from the Forsworn and they hurled themselves off the bridge into the river to quench the flames. I seized my chance, sending spikes of ice into their hearts, freezing them in the river before they had the chance to bleed. Esbern's storm atronach charged past me, followed by Delphine, who did not neglect to throw me a hostile glance despite our situation. 

With the bridge cleared, Eira led us into the Forsworn camp. More of them charged at us, but in vain - they were stretched out over the camp, attacking one by one against four. When the last one lay dead by Eira's hand, she turned, wiping sweat from her brow, and looked at Delphine.

'What now?' she said.

'Now,' Delphine said, 'We enter the Karthspire.' She stepped forward as though to lead us to wherever the so-called Karthspire was, when she halted. 'Out of interest, have you explained to this Thalmor friend of yours why we are here?'

Eira sighed. 'All in good time.'

'What better time than now?' I said. Eira made a small groaning noise and waved a hand at Delphine, gesturing for her to go ahead. Esbern followed. 

'I suppose it's best I tell you this before we go in there,' she began when we were left alone. 'And you're probably not going to believe me, seeing as you'll think it's a load of Nord nonsense. Honestly, before that dragon attacked near Whiterun, I would have agreed with you - '

'Get to the point.' 

'I'm the Dragonborn.' 

That may have been a little more 'to the point' than was appropriate. I stared at her in disbelief. 'What?'

'It's the reason I can Shout without training,' she explained. 'And the reason why we're here. The dragons aren't just returning, Ondolemar, they're coming back to life. They're being resurrected by Alduin.' 

'So those fanatics have led you to believe you're some hero out of a Nord bedtime story?' I scoffed. 'I knew you were at least half insane when you attacked the embassy, but even you must have more sense than that.'

'For the gods' sakes,' she hissed. 'When I kill a dragon, I take its very soul. The Greybeards themselves summoned me to High Hrothgar, as they do with all who have the dragon blood. Alduin the World-Eater returns, and I am the only one who has a chance to stop him. Surely you must know the prophecy?'

'Yes, I am familiar with this...prophecy,' I drawled. 'Elenwen made a point of researching it, along with these tales of 'Dragonborns', when that dragon attacked Helgen.'

'That dragon was Alduin.'

'If that dragon was Alduin, as you seem adamant it was, then the end times are upon us, and there's nothing that Men or Mer can do about it.' 

'You're not listening!' she cried. 'The prophecy says that when Alduin wakes, the Last Dragonborn has the chance to stop him from consuming the world.'

'So you believe you're the Last Dragonborn?' I smirked, a deliberate attempt to shake her. 

'I don't have to take this from you,' she spat, glaring at me. 'If you don't believe me, fine. You'll see soon enough. You will all see.' 

She turned, fists balled, and stormed off without a second look.


	5. The Road to Whiterun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

After the way things went at Sky Haven Temple, I decided against letting Ondolemar tag along to High Hrothgar with me. Delphine was scary enough when angered, but I couldn't imagine the Greybeards would stand for Ondolemar dragging his arrogant, pompous, 'superiorly-bred' backside around their monastery, and I didn't really feel like clearing up the mess that would result. Instead, he had to go to Jorrvaskr. 

How was I going to explain all this to Vilkas? And how would I convince him (and likely the rest of the Companions) not to knock the pretentious snob through the ground? I had to admit, I was having a hard time avoiding it myself as we journeyed away from the Reach and headed into the intersection with Whiterun and Falkreath Holds. 

'I absolutely refuse to share living space with glorified sellswords,' he was saying. 'Tell me, how does a Mer become the Harbinger of the Companions, when it was Ysgramor, their revered founder, who drove the elves out of Skyrim? Hmm? Not that anyone in their right mind would need convincing to leave this dire place. Only Nord savages could want to live in such a - '

'Unless you want me to leave you to the sabre cats, you'll do as I tell you,' I scolded. Ondolemar scowled, but said nothing. 

Night had fallen long ago, and the roads twisted away into the shadows. No aurora illuminated the skies, and the moons were out of sight. Only the light of the stars and lanterns hanging from signposts guided our way as we marched on through the dark. 

The southern road snaked along the edge of the plains. Whiterun's lights were faintly visible in the distance, dancing in my vision as I trudged towards them. I resolved not to bother trying to speak to Ondolemar until we got to our destination, for both of our sakes. 

Time ticked by, and the temperature plummeted. My teeth chattered and I pulled my cloak more tightly around myself to keep out the chill of the waning winter. Spring would arrive soon, but that was little relief in the forever-frozen northern land I now called home. A few travellers had told me that you get used to it eventually, and when summer eventually comes you wouldn't notice the difference between here and further south. 

Still, despite my time with the Thalmor that would always hang as a shadow over my memories of my homeland, I missed the gardens of Firsthold in the summertime. The flowers would burst from their beds to bring great swathes of colour to the city, and the ripening fruits weighed the boughs of the trees down towards the hands of children who plucked them from the branches and ran away laughing, oblivious to the woes of the world. 

A wolf's howl sounded from somewhere in the tundra. I sighed, still shaking from the cold, and tried to focus on my steps.

'How much farther?' demanded Ondolemar. I looked back at him trailing behind. His eyes glinted as he watched me from beneath his hood.

'About twenty minutes to the gate,' I answered. 'Another five up to Jorrvaskr.'

'Hmph.' 

'I won't be placing you in the normal living quarters, if that's what you're worried about,' I said, facing ahead again. 'You'll be in a room next to the main hall which formerly belonged to the late Vignar Gray-Mane.'

'A dead man's room?' he drawled, and I shot him a glare. 'Fine. Better than having to inhale the same air as a bunch of stinking, sweaty mercenaries.' 

'If you're wise, you'll refrain from insulting any of them whilst you're there.'

'What are they going to do, lecture me on honour and traditions?' 

'Actually, particularly in Aela's case, they might - '

Roaring erupted from the mountainside, and a shadow crossed the stars, sending torrents of air towards us. I cast Candlelight and braced myself for what I knew was coming. The shadow landed, sending clouds of dirt into the air and coming into the light of my spell. Ondolemar cursed as the dragon's features were illuminated. 

'Fo Krah Diin!' I Shouted, blasting the dragon with ice. It recoiled, snarling, baring teeth as long as my forearm. It lunged at me, jaws gnashing, and I jumped back just in time, feeling its teeth catch my cloak. 

'Yol Toor Shul!' the dragon answered, blasting me with fire. I threw up my ward, feeling the flames singe my hands and biting my lip in pain. Through my ward I saw Ondolemar sending sparks flying to the dragon's side, and swore. The fool.

The dragon turned on him, and his face blanched. He stumbled as it prepared to attack. Drawing my dagger, I launched myself onto its back, clinging to its spines as it tried to shake me off. With the dragon distracted, Ondolemar resumed throwing spells at it, and I pulled myself towards its neck. Steadying myself, I plunged the dagger under its scales. It reared up in agony while I plunged the dagger in again and again, becoming soaked with its blood. Ondolemar darted around to its side as it thrashed its talons wildly and I tried desperately to cling on to its flailing wing. 

My fingers slipped against the smooth scales and I cried out, falling to the ground on unsteady feet and stumbling backwards until I collided with something and felt myself being hoisted up. My vision was blurred, head pounding, and I slumped, watching the dragon collapse, dead. Immediately its flesh began to flicker with that familiar light, and I felt strength return to me, my vision brightning, my blood surging powerfully through my veins. The dragon's bones were all that was left, a dull shrine to the power that now belonged to me. 

'By the gods,' came a whisper strangely close to me. I realised then, to my mortification, that I was slouched in Ondolemar's arms, and promptly stood up straight and distanced myself, clearing my throat. He was looking at me strangely, with astonishment, admiration and irritation all at once. 

'Do you believe me now?' I exhaled, still gasping for breath. 

Ondolemar walked over to the dragon's skeleton cautiously, as though it might come back to life. He reached out and traced his hand along one of its ribs, and I saw him shudder slightly. 

'I suppose I ought to,' he answered. He withdrew his hand and turned back towards me. 'I, er...apologise. In all fairness, unless one sees it with one's own eyes, your story would be considered by most people to be - '

'Yes, yes, apology accepted, whatever,' I interrupted, prompting a narrowing of his eyes and a slight grunt of annoyance. 'Now, let's hurry up and get to Whiterun. I need a drink.'


	6. Whiterun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Upon entering Jorrvaskr, I was greeted by the sight of two sweaty Nord women locked in a fistfight. How civilised, I thought to myself, wrinkling my nose with distaste. 

When Eira walked in, the fight stopped, and people turned to greet her. They eyed me strangely, and I glared right back at them. Probably not my best idea if I was to be living with them until a time as yet undecided, but I couldn't help myself. 

'Eira, my love,' said one man in distinctive steel-and-fur armour. 'I had started to wonder of you would ever come back.' There was tension in his voice, and judging by the glances some of the others shot one another, I wasn't the only one who noticed. 

'Well, here I am,' Eira said far too cheerily. 

'Mama!' came a high voice from the back of the room. Two children came running through the gathered crowd and wrapped their arms around Eira, who smiled, joy lighting up her features in a way I'd never seen before. It made her look different - softer and warmer, not weathered by fear or a past full of regret. Her eyes lit up like the moon as she planted a kiss on each girl's head. 

'Oh, how I've missed you!' she said, stroking their hair. They looked up her with adoration, as though her presence had completed their worlds and fulfilled every wish and dream that had ever formed in their young minds. I once believed that after my time in service to the Thalmor, all those years of gradual destruction of my own emotions to turn me into the cold, unfeeling thing I had become, nothing could ever rouse the feelings that were little but distant, uncertain memories. Observing a moment of such pure happiness and love seemed to thaw an icy cage that had formed around my heart, and I found myself averting my eyes as pictures of my own past came back to me. 

I seemed to forget, as most adults do, that I was once a child myself. At some point decades ago I'd had the same light in my eyes whenever my mother came home from one of her long business trips, or when my father came back from one of his many posts across Tamriel. My parents had been gods to me. I wondered what they thought of me now; perhaps my father had lost his reputation since my betrayal became apparent, maybe even his job. No doubt all my mother's connections across the Dominion had forsaken her. Maybe they had quickly fallen into poverty, or worse, maybe they'd been killed just to make sure they weren't somehow in league with me. 

'Who is this?' asked the man. He was staring at me coldly when I looked up again. 

'This...is Ondolemar,' she said hesitantly.

'Ah,' came the reply. He didn't break eye contact with me. 'Eira's friend from the Thalmor.'

'This is Vilkas,' Eira said to me. 'My husband.'

'Pleasure,' I muttered, still half lost in my own thoughts. Vilkas grunted, probably with disapproval. 

'Why have you brought him here?' Vilkas demanded. 'Not to join us, I hope.' I couldn't help but make a sound of restrained laughter in the back of my throat, attracting glares from around the room.

'The Thalmor tried to arrest him,' Eira said. 'He's going to be staying here, under our protection, until further notice.'

'Do any of us get a say in this?' Vilkas muttered through clenched teeth, a subtle growl in his voice. 

'Vilkas,' said a woman with warpaint smeared across her face. 'Our Harbinger has requested that we offer our hospitality to her guest.'

'No, Aela, she's telling us to harbour a fugitive.' He glared at Eira. 'The Companions don't involve themselves in politics.'

'And I'm not asking you to,' she snarled softly, folding her arms. 'All I'm asking is that you let Ondolemar use Vignar's old room for a while. If the Thalmor do come here - which they won't, if Jarl Balgruuf has anything to say about it - show him out of Whiterun by the Underforge passage and no harm will come to anyone.'

'His very existence is an affront to all that the Companions stand for!' argued Vilkas. I raised my eyebrows and looked down my nose at him, making his cheeks redden with heightened rage. 'This... _person_ , if you can even call him that, signed up for Elven supremacy. Whether or not the Thalmor have exiled him, he still holds with their ideals. To uphold the legacy of Ysgramor - '

'Enough!' Eira bellowed. I saw her daughters jump back and hide behind her, whispering to one another with wide, frightened eyes. 'I have single-handedly ruined someone's life, and honour demands I make amends. If you have any notion of honour, _husband_ , you will stop this pointless arguing this instant.'

Vilkas stared at her, his expression twisting back into a scowl. He was visibly shaking with anger. The two children were huddled behind Eira, and the dark-haired one had tears in her eyes whilst the other one comforted her. 

'If it's too much trouble, I can stay at the inn,' I said.

'No,' replied Eira, not breaking eye contact with Vilkas. 'You're staying where I know they won't find you. I owe you that much.' She finally turned away from her husband and instead faced me, hands folded behind her back. 'You're in the room over there, through the door. Feel free to go out at your leisure and explore the city. If you need anything, I'll be down at the far end of the living quarters.' 

She looked away and placed a hand around each of her daughters' shoulders, guiding them away from the scene down some stairs at the other end of the building. I looked sideways at Vilkas as I made my way to the room she had directed me to. The Companions began to talk among themselves, many walking in the same direction Eira had just went. The hours were growing late.

I shut myself in the room, glad to finally have some privacy. All of the previous occupant's possessions had been cleared out, minus a few books and rolls of paper, leaving the room sparse. Not that I felt inclined to complain - it was clean, warm, and I had a proper bed, which was more than I could say for my cramped quarters in Markarth that I'd shared with my guards and Legate Admand. 

Pushing my hood away from my face, I went to the writing desk and sat down, pulling a random book from the shelf. Of all the books it could have been, it turned out to be 'The Lusty Argonian Maid vI', and I frowned at the inside cover. It was one of the few books that had never at any point commanded my interest or attention. Judging by the wear and tear on the binding, it was one of Vignar Gray-Mane's favourites. A horrible thought occurred to me and I dropped the book with a snarl of disgust, pushing it away with my sleeve pulled up to cover my already contaminated hand. 

Sighing, I resolved to check the chests and cupboard for anything of interest. A few septims, plenty of dust, some spiders, an old clothes iron, and to my irritation, an Amulet of Talos. Not surprising really, considering the enormous statue conveniently placed outside Jorrvaskr. How on Nirn the Jarl managed to keep good relations with the Empire was beyond me. 

A knock came at the door as I was busy digging around in a dresser, and I slammed the draw shut as Eira walked in, hissing when my finger got caught in it. She eyed me strangely and stepped into the room.

'I brought you some clean clothes,' she said, passing me to place the neatly-folded pile on the end of the bed. 'I'm sorry I had to rush off. The girls were upset.'

'That's quite alright,' I said, making a conscious effort to be polite. She frowned, straightening.

'What's made you suddenly feel compelled to be nice?' she muttered. 'You've been ranting about how much you resent me for the last two days.' 

'Perhaps I have been a little short-sighted,' I offered. 'Would you do me the honour of accepting a most sincere apology?'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Well...yes. But I do hope this hasn't been brought on because of my argument with Vilkas earlier.'

'Not at all.'

'Good. Do you want something to eat? Tilma packed everything away hours ago, but my housecarl should have my home in the Plains District stocked.'

'If you have a house here, why are you making your visibly distressed husband endure my presence?' 

'Because it's too close to the wall and it isn't protected,' she said. 'If the Thalmor managed to get an assassin into the city, they could access it within seconds, and be in and out before anyone spotted them. Lydia isn't always there either. You're safer here, where someone is always around, and in the heart of the city.'

'As flattered as I am by your concern for my safety, I am quite capable of defending myself,' I said.

'I know that,' she sighed. 'But I'm not taking any risks. Get out of those travelling clothes and I'll meet you out the front.'

She left the room and closed the door carefully behind her. I turned to the pile of clothes and rummaged through them, pleasantly surprised that they weren't a load of old rags. In the end I swapped the travelling robes for a set with a padded blue overcoat and black boots, feeling a little more like myself.

I glanced in the mirror that hung above the writing desk and ran a hand along the back of my head, where pale stubble had already begun to grow thanks to the lack of daily shaving in the last couple of days. Once my hair had been to my shoulders, until the day I was promoted, when custom and tradition demanded I remove it. 

Shaking off thoughts of the past, I headed outside, glancing towards the central table as I passed. Only a couple of people lingered there - one of the women who had been fighting earlier, and a straw-haired man who was chuckling over his ale. 

Outside, Eira was lounging against the building. She smiled at my approach. 'Follow me.'

She led me down the stairs, past the Talos statue that I made a point of sneering at, much to her apparent amusement, and past the sprawling tree they called the Gildergreen. More stairs led us into the market, where she began to point things out to me.

'That's the inn,' she was saying. 'And that's Arcadia's Cauldron. She's an alchemist, tries to claim everyone who walks through her door has got a disease that needs curing so they'll buy her potions. Oh, and there's Belethor's General Goods. A little too obsessive over money, that one.' 

'Are you the only Altmer living in Whiterun?' I asked her. She frowned.

'I suppose I am,' she said. 'Although not anymore.' She reached into her pocket and produced a key as we stopped outside a modest house next to a smithy. The door swung open and we were swallowed up by the darkness as she pushed the door shut behind us.

'Lydia?' she called out. No answer. 'She must be up at Dragonsreach drooling over the Jarl's brother again.' Eira lit up a Candelight spell and proceeded to place fresh logs on the lifeless fire pit and ignite them with a jet of flames from her hands.

'Is it really wise to do that indoors?' I said.

'Probably not, but I don't live a life of wisdom.' 

The fire pit crackled to life, filling the house with light. I looked around at the traditional Nordic style of it, the only hint of Eira's heritage being the elven weapons hanging on the racks. 

'It isn't much,' she said. 'But it's the first house I ever bought.' There was a beam of pride on her face as she looked around. 'And I bought it and decorated it with money that I earned by shedding my own sweat, blood and tears. You know, we are fed with a silver spoon in the Summerset Isles. There is much to be admired in the Nords for how hard they work for everything they own, humble as it may seem. I understood that after I bought this place.' 

'You have a lot of respect for them,' I stated. 'You even married one.'

She shot me a disapproving glance as she started to search through sacks and barrels. 'I know what you must think of it, and I don't care. I think you'll find many of our kind who live here have married Nords.'

'I didn't mean anything by it,' I objected. 'You never mentioned you were married, or that you have children.' 

'I adopted them both before Vilkas and I got married,' she said. 'Sofie was a beggar child on the streets of Windhelm, Sissel was being abused by her father and twin sister. A dragon attacked Rorikstead, where they lived, and killed the father. I took Sissel on but not her twin. The girl had a cruel streak in her, and besides, she had friends at the orphanage. Sissel had no one.'

'They must miss you when you're away.'

'I imagine so, but they're used to having no one at all. I try to spend as much time as I can with them. In a life like mine, any day could be your last.' 

We locked eyes for a moment that stretched out for far too long. Her eyes were a startling shade of green that reminded me of the leaves in the light of a summer's evening. Eira looked away, returning to busying herself with pots and pans. 

'Do you have anyone in your life?' she asked me. 

'No,' I answered. 'I've had little time for such things, and little reason to pursue them even if I did have the time.' 

'You must've had lovers.'

I hesitated. 'Once. When I was much younger and much more foolish.' 

Eira smirked. 'Go on, tell me.' 

I rolled my eyes. 'Here I am, in the company of the legendary Dragonborn, chosen by the gods blah-blah, and what does she care about? My love life, of all things.' 

'If it weren't for triviality, I'd have lost my mind long ago,' she said. 'What was her name?' 

'Lorwen,' I answered. 'She was...my superior officer.'

Eira giggled in an unsuitably girlish fashion most unbefitting of a dragonslayer. 'So what went wrong? A scandal?'

'Indeed. It turns out she was notorious for jumping into bed with the new recruits. I was one of her unfortunate victims, and spent six months believing that she was in love with me. Then another batch of newly-trained officers came along and I was cast aside. So I decided to get revenge by shaming her publicly.'

Eira grimaced. 'Oh gods. What happened to her?'

'Her reputation was destroyed. She resigned the next morning and went to Cyrodiil.' 

'Do you regret shaming her?'

I smirked. 'Not in the slightest.'

Smiling, she fetched two bottles of ale from a shelf, and handed one to me, popping the cap open. She held hers aloft.

'To endings,' she said. 'And new beginnings.'

I clinked my bottle against hers. 'Endings and new beginnings.'


	7. Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Sofie and Sissel were heartbroken when I told them I had to go the next morning. They cried and begged for an hour for me to stay. Was it cruel of me to adopt two children when I was so scarcely there for them? I had thought little of it at the time, having grown up without a mother and with a distant father. Yet I had offered these two girls a real family, and I had failed to provide that. 

Vilkas came to me with a bunch of flowers to apologise for his outburst. At this point, 'sorry' had lost most of its meaning. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. He knew that as well as I did; I could see it in his eyes. We had only been married six months ago, and should have still been glowing with the thrill of being newlyweds. Instead, we were estranged.

All of the Companions who weren't on jobs were training outside that morning, enjoying the fair weather of early spring. I picked up some supplies from around Jorrvaskr and put them in my knapsack. Sissel trailed me, offering me things to take, trying her best to be helpful. Smiling, I ruffled her hair.

'Why do you have to go, Mama?' she asked.

'I have important things to do, little one,' she answered. 

'Like what?'

I sat down on a bench and patted it, gesturing for her to sit beside me. She did, looking up at me with sad blue eyes.

'I have to go and fight the dragons,' I said. 'And if I don't, very bad things will happen.'

'What bad things?'

'Lots of people will get hurt.'

'Will I get hurt?'

'Only if I don't go.'

Sissel laced her fingers together. 'I had a dream that there was a good dragon. He was old and grey, but he wasn't scary.'

I beamed down at her. 'I'm sure there are good dragons like the one in your dream, but there are lots of bad dragons who want to hurt us.'

Sissel stopped speaking for a moment, then let out a sigh. 'Why did we have to come to Jorrvaskr, Mama?'

'Why, do you not like it here?'

'I like it, but...' she sighed. 'Nobody here except you does magic. They're teaching Sofie to be a warrior, but I don't want to be a warrior. I want to be a mage.'

'One day, my dear, you can go to the College of Winterhold, and learn all about magic.'

'But I wanna learn now! Sofie gets to learn what she wants!'

'Hmm. You could ask Danica at the temple if she can show you.'

'I already did. She's always busy.'

'Maybe if you catch Ondolemar in a good mood, he'll show you a few things.'

Sissel shook her head. 'He's scary.'

'Oh, he just wants you to think that,' I chuckled. 'He's all bark and no bite. Trust me.' She looked up at me again as I stood and closed my knapsack, hoisting it up onto my shoulder. 

'Come back soon, Mama.' 

'I will, little one.' Sissel got up and walked to the door, heading out into the yard at the back. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I shook my head, about to leave, when I realised that I hadn't seen Ondolemar all morning. I crossed over to his door and knocked. No answer. Frowning, I pushed open the door, and found the room deserted. Panic gripped me, twisting my stomach into knots, and I dashed outside into the yard. 

A quick scan of the area confirmed he wasn't here either. Cursing, I darted around to the front and down the stairs to the Gildergreen. A guard eyed me strangely, seeing my fearful expression.

'Did you see a high elf come through here?' I asked him. He shook his head. I moved on through the town, my heart racing. Heading for the market, I tried to calm my anxiety. I asked Carlotta, Anoriath, Fralia. Nobody had seen him. 

'Is that him?' asked Jenassa, pointing to the door of Belethor's General Goods. Surely enough, Ondolemar was emerging from the shop, carrying a stack of books.

'You idiot!' I hissed, approaching him. He scowled at me.

'What have I done now?' 

'You didn't tell anyone you were going out!'

'I didn't realise I needed permission,' he scoffed. 

'You don't. However, you do need to tell someone where you're going to be.'

'I've only been out for about ten minutes. Vignar's library was a little underwhelming, unless you have a taste for interracial pornography and Stormcloak propaganda.' I looked at the books he held in his arms, all on destruction magic, and raised my eyebrows.

'Whatever you do, don't let Sissel see those,' I said. 'She'll end up burning down Jorrvaskr.'

'She has an aptitude for magic? That's rare among Nords.' 

'It would be less rare if the Nords weren't so afraid of magic,' I pointed out. 'Anyway, I'm leaving now.'

'Where are you going?'

'High Hrothgar,' I said, pointing at the monastery perched on the mountainside, a dark mass just visible through wisps of cloud. 'I need to learn the Shout that the ancients used to defeat Alduin.'

Ondolemar frowned. 'But if they defeated him, why has he returned?'

'Well, they didn't exactly defeat him. But Alduin's Wall in Sky Haven Temple shows a Shout being used against him. The Greybeards might know it.'

'When will you return?' 

'As soon as I can.'

Our eyes locked again. I hoisted my knapsack up and looked away, clearing my throat. 

'Behave yourself whilst I'm away.'

He grinned. 'I'll try.'


	8. A Lesson in Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

It seemed wise that if I were to avoid insulting any of the Companions, I ought to keep away from them. So I did, until long after nightfall when I finally returned to Jorrvaskr to shut myself away in my room. They paid me little heed when I entered, much to my relief, and continued to brag and shout and laugh in an obnoxiously loud and unnecessary fashion. The only one around that table who seemed to care about my presence was Sissel, who watched me pass with curious eyes. I turned my gaze away from hers and pushed the doors to my room closed, muffling some of the noise from the rabble in the mead hall.

Having cleared away Vignar's questionable selection of literature into a cupboard that morning, I placed my own books on the shelf, leaving out a spell tome for incineration. At least without mountains of work to get through, I had time to study. Perhaps I could join the College someday, if Eira would let me, being the Archmage. 

How on Nirn could one belong to so many different organisations? She was Archmage, Harbinger, a bard, a vampire hunter, and gods know what else. She seemed to have led dozens of lives in one. How old was she? I came to realise that I knew barely anything about this woman upon whom my life now depended. All I really knew was her name and some of her titles. 

It wasn't until a gentle knock at my door roused me that I realised I had fallen asleep, my head resting on my hand, the spell tome left untouched in front of me. Frowning, I straightened myself up.

'Enter,' I called out, blinking hard.

The door cracked open a little, and a blue eye blinked at me from the other side. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms, watching as the child opened the door a little more and lingered in the frame. 

'Can I help you?' I asked her, trying to soften my voice. 

'I...' She trailed off, gulping, taking a small step back. 'Nothing!' 

'Don't be afraid.'

'Are you...do you...can you do magic?' she stammered, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. 

'I can indeed,' I replied. 

'What kind?'

'Mostly destruction magic.'

'They never let me do destruction magic,' she sulked.

'That's because it's very dangerous,' I said. 'The most dangerous of the schools of magic, in fact. Before you attempt to use even novice destruction magic, you must first learn to control your magicka.' 

'Jouane used to teach me,' she said, shuffling forward into the room a bit more. 'He was in the Great War. He healed people with magic. My real papa used to say that magic was bad, but it can't be bad if it can heal people.' 

'You're quite right. Magic isn't bad, people who misuse it are.' I reached for the door and pulled it wide open, gesturing with the other hand for her to come in. 'Why don't you show me what you already know?' 

Her face lit up and she scurried into the room, closing the door behind her. She stood and clamped her eyes shut, focusing intensely, and one by one the candles in the room dimmed and blacked out into a cloud of smoke. 

'Very good,' I praised. 'Can you relight them?'

'No,' she said. 'Jouane wouldn't show me.'

'This is a little harder, because you have to put energy out rather than take it in, and that requires more control,' I explained. 'The last thing you want to do is set light to the whole building.' I took one candle and placed it near the edge of the desk in front of her. 'You need to focus on the wick of the candle. Picture the flame in your mind, and whatever you do, contain it. If you want to make a mental image real, you have to act as if it is real, so control it like you would a real fire.'

Sissel closed her eyes again and reached out to cup the space around the candle in her hands. Exhaling, she opened her eyes again as a tiny flame formed on the wick of the candle.

'Good,' I encouraged her. 'Now feed it with more magicka, just a little at a time.' Suddenly the flame shot up in height. 'Slowly! Think of it as a slow, steady stream.' The flame died down to a stable height. 'Excellent. Now begin to stop the flow of magicka into it. Steadily now.' Sissel retracted her hands, and a beam burst into life on her face. 

'I did it!' she cried. Her utmost joy forced a smile to bloom on my own face. 'I actually did it!' 

'You have a natural aptitude for magic, it seems,' I told her. 'A gift rare indeed among the Nords. Use it well, and you'll achieve great things.'

'Thank you for helping me,' Sissel whispered, her eyes aglow with pride. 

'That's quite alright,' I said. 'But I suspect that the hour is late, and you should probably be in bed.' 

'Aw...' She turned away and paused as she placed her hand on the door handle. 'You won't tell Papa about this, will you?'

I shook my head. 'Your secret's safe with me, Sissel.'

She flashed me a grin as she scurried out into the main hall, closing the door behind her. I rubbed at my eyes, aware now of my tiredness. The spell tome could wait for tomorrow. 

As I folded my clothes into a neat pile on the chair beside my bed, I thought of Eira on her way to High Hrothgar. My resentment of her had more or less melted away the moment I saw her take that dragon's soul. I'd come to realise that my sacrifice had been tiny compared to those that she had made for the sake of the world. Every day she put her very life on the line in an effort to preserve the mortal plane that I had spent the majority of my existence working to escape. Perhaps the Thalmor were wrong about Mundus. They claimed that the Altmer were descended from the Aedra, and that we should sit amongst them. Yet without the creation of Mundus, none of us would be able to sit amongst them, _because none of us would exist_. 

Perhaps the Thalmor were wrong about many things. Perhaps I had been wrong. Maybe I had been wrong and been wronged, maybe we had all been brainwashed. That child was the furthest thing from a savage I could imagine. The Thalmor wanted that little girl dead just because she was human. 

I blew out the candle Sissel had lit, dismissing my thoughts, and obeyed the call of sleep.


	9. The Woes of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

It hadn't exactly shocked me to discover that the Greybeards were led by a dragon, or that I needed an Elder Scroll if I wanted to learn that Shout. On the plus side, I knew where the Scroll was. Unfortunately, that would involve a trip to Fort Dawnguard, and I hadn't packed enough supplies for a journey there. In the end I'd decided to head back to Whiterun and gather some supplies and then take a carriage to Riften. 

I hoped as I entered Whiterun that Ondolemar had managed not to piss the Companions off too much, and equally, that they had managed not to piss him off either. The city was especially lively today, probably because of the fair weather, and many offered friendly greetings as I passed through the Plains and Wind Districts and headed up the stairs to Jorrvaskr. 

As I headed around the back, I almost collided with Vilkas, who was fully armed and wearing an expression of surprise.

'Oh,' he said. 'I didn't think you'd be back so soon.'

I scowled at him. 'Disappointed, are we?'

He huffed. 'I didn't mean...oh, whatever. I'm heading out on a job.'

I stared at him in disbelief as he tried to pass me. 'Aren't you even going to ask about what happened with the Greybeards?'

'You can fill me in when I return,' he answered. 'I need to be in Morthal by nightfall.'

'Well I might not be here when you come back,' I said. 

'Good.'

 _Because if Alduin shows up after I learn that Shout, you might never see me again_ , I was about to add before he cut me off and walked away. Fine. If I died on that mountain in a few days he'd be sorry.

Why was I even thinking like that?

I shook my head and continued on towards the yard. My heartache melted away at the sight of Aela guiding Sofie's hands to notch an arrow onto a bow. I lingered a short distance away as Sofie pulled on the bowstring and released a wobbly shot that managed to strike the dummy's arm. 

'Ouch,' I said, approaching them. Sofie looked up and rushed over to me, throwing her arms around me. 

'You're home!' she exclaimed. Her eyes were afire with pride as she showed me the bow. 'Aela's showing me archery.'

'I can see,' I said. 'And you seem to be doing brilliantly.'

'She is indeed, Harbinger,' said Aela. 'We'll make a fine archer out of this one.'

'And a bladeswoman! Eorlund said he'd make me a sword!' 

I chuckled. 'You'll be a great warrior some day, little one. Where's Sissel?' 

'Inside, as usual,' she said. 

'Alright. Make sure you get something to eat soon.' I headed indoors, glad to be out of the blinding sunlight. As I entered, I heard voices coming from Ondolemar's room, and crept over to listen. I smiled as I heard Sissel's hushed whispers, and knocked on the door. 

'Enter,' called Ondolemar.

'Mama!' cried Sissel as she saw me standing in the doorway. 'Look, I'm learning magic!' She put her hands out in front of herself and cast a strong, stable ward, although she only managed to hold it up for a few seconds before her magicka was depleted and it fizzled out. 

'That's wonderful!' I exclaimed, scooping her into an embrace. I looked up at Ondolemar. 'I trust you haven't been teaching her anything dangerous?'

'Only the things I learned as a child,' he said. 'Alteration, restoration and illusion.'

'Good.' I released Sissel from my embrace and pinched her cheek.

'Papa doesn't know,' she told me. 'I didn't think he'd like it.'

'No, he wouldn't,' I said. 'But he doesn't need to know, does he?' Ondolemar caught my eye, a frown on his face. I looked back at Sissel and handed her a purse full of septims. 

'Why don't you and Sofie go to the market for a while? Buy whatever you like, but get some food for that poor beggar girl. And remember what we said about Braith, yes? You aren't responsible for Lars, he has to learn to stick up for himself.'

'Yes Mama,' she chirped, skipping away to find Sofie. I let out a long breath.

'So,' said Ondolemar. 'What happened?'

'I spoke with their leader, a dragon called Paarthurnax. He says I need an Elder Scroll in order to learn the Shout,' I explained. 'Luckily, I have the right scroll already, but it's in Fort Dawnguard near Riften. I was going to ask Vilkas to come with me, but he...well, he went on a job.' 

'And you're alright with that?' he asked. 

'I...' Trailing off, I stared at him. Nobody really ever thought to ask me how I felt. 'Well, no, I don't suppose I am. But that's how it is. It doesn't matter, I've spent many years travelling alone all over Tamriel. I can manage.'

'I can come with you,' he offered. 'If it's a hand in a fight you need, I'm more than capable.'

'It's more for the company, if I'm honest,' I admitted. 

'Then I can understand why I probably wouldn't be your first choice,' he said, smirking slightly, a glint of humour in his eye.

'You know, for a Thalmor, you aren't so bad.'

'Ex-Thalmor,' he corrected. 'Not unlike yourself. Anyway, I'm coming with you. Whiterun is pleasant enough, but it's hardly a hive of activity and excitement.'

'Do I get a choice in the matter?'

'No.'

I chuckled. 'Very well. But we're leaving in a few hours, so pack light and be ready to depart on my order.'

'Yes ma'am,' he mumbled.

I tried to glare at him, but found the corners of my mouth turning up into a smile anyway, much to my irritation. He noticed it and grinned smugly, so I rolled my eyes and pulled the doors shut behind me as I left. 

Descending into the living quarters, I headed for my room, which still didn't feel like mine. It would always have an air of Kodlak about it, even with Sofie and Sissel's dolls and books scattered all over it. 

As I sat at the writing desk, Farkas approached me. 'Eira, can we talk?'

'Of course,' I said. 'Take a seat. What troubles you?'

'It's about you and Vilkas,' he started. 'I know it's none of my business, but you two don't seem happy.'

I sighed. 'Marriage comes with many different pressures, and it can take its toll on any couple. I'm always away, and we have two children who miss me and depend heavily on Vilkas when I'm not here. I think he struggles to be a good father, a good husband and a good warrior all at once.' 

'I remember how you were when you first got hitched,' he said. 'You wouldn't leave each other alone. Now you barely even speak.'

'When we got married, we were spending a lot of time together because we lived in Whiterun,' I said. 'Things changed when I went away to join the Dawnguard. We kept in touch by letter, but...it's not the same. Our communication broke down. Then I had him and the girls move out to Hjaalmarch, and he must have felt completely cut off from everything he ever knew. Getting married changes your life in so many ways. Nothing is just about you anymore. You have to change your behaviour, your actions, your attitudes. Vilkas has tried to do that, but despite all I've tried, I haven't been able to do that because of what I am.'

'What do you mean? Because you're Dragonborn?'

'Exactly. I have the soul of a dragon. I can't help but try to be the dominant one, the powerful one, it's woven into my very spirit. Vilkas has done all the changing and I haven't been able to compromise. I know he hates it, and I hate it too, and I try to overcome my nature, but do you know how hard it is to defy your own soul?'

'Nah, I don't,' he said. 'But it don't sound easy. I hope you two get close again soon.' He stood and bid me goodbye, and I sat back in my chair, huffing. 

The girls had been so upset to see us argue the other day. Every time I came home this happened. How could they look forward to my return if he and I argued every time I came back? It was no environment for those children.

Maybe we should never have got married. If Vilkas and I had remained lovers, if we didn't have those kinds of pressures, we might have worked out better. Gods, I never thought it would come to this. When I'd walked up to that altar in the Temple of Mara, I'd thought I was signing up for a lifetime of love and happiness. That's how the priesthood of Mara made it sound. 

Maybe it was just all too soon. In Altmer tradition, courtships can span decades before an engagement is even decided, and an engagement can last up to another ten years. I suppose Men don't have all that time to waste on courtship. They only have about three decades of fertility, and six of life. Less if they're poor. By the time Vilkas grew old and died, I would still be in the prime of my life. And my children would grow old and and die centuries before me too. I was sixty-three, and could live for hundreds of years longer if nothing was able to kill me, especially as a mage of my abilities.

I'd had many lovers since deserting the Thalmor, both elves and men. My first held a special place in my memory. I didn't leave the Thalmor until I was posted out in the embassy in Valenwood, willing to take the risk only when I was on Tamriel's mainland. There, I had met Thaduin, a wood elf prisoner, captured during a purge. Of course, my role with him was the same as always - wait for the torturer to give the word, and heal his injuries so they could continue. Eventually, when he was unable to give any more information on resistance groups hiding in Falinesti, this particularly cruel torturer castrated him and left him to bleed to death. I made up my mind as I walked away hearing his screams of pain. I had to get out, and I was taking him with me.

I made an excuse about leaving my gold sapphire ring, a family heirloom, in the chambers, and the interrogator handed me the keys, telling me to hurry up. We'd worked together for a few months by that point, so he stupidly trusted me and believed I was loyal to the Thalmor as I had always pretended to be. I shut the door behind me and immediately went to unlock Thaduin's cage and shackles, hushing him, and hoisted him up, his blood soaking my white robes, carrying him over to the hatch where we dumped the lifeless bodies of our victims. There was one in every single embassy across Tamriel, and they all led outside so that the bodies could be cleared out once a week. Often, animals moved in to save them the trouble. The stench down there was unbearable, and Thaduin vomited after we'd stumbled through the cave over the dead bodies. I used a stronger healing spell than I usually used, sealing up his wound. He asked me why I was helping him, and I told him I was a deserter. We escaped together and fled to Cyrodiil, where I told him all about my life and how I had been forced to join the Thalmor, and he told me about his, how they'd killed his entire family. We made a pact to stick together, and moved to Hammerfell, where I started selling potions, and he became a hunter. Eventually, we fell in love. 

I was out selling when the Thalmor came for us, and found him slumped dead in our tiny house on the outskirts of Skaven. Without time to mourn, I grabbed a purse full of gold and fled Hammerfell, stealing the first horse I could find and speeding to Cyrodiil once more. Within three days of relentless fleeing, I'd changed horses six times, and finally arrived at the Imperial City, where I immediately sought out a face sculptor to render myself unrecognisable. With the last of my money, I bought a market stall with an alchemy table, and slept next to it in a bedroll in the Imperial City for the next four months.

Pushing thoughts of love and death aside, I reached for my knapsack and begun to pack for the journey to Riften. Maybe I would take a detour to the Temple of Mara and seek guidance from the goddess and her priests. There could still be hope for my dying marriage. 

But first, I needed to get the Scroll.


	10. Death's Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

We didn't arrive in Riften until late at night, and Eira deemed it too risky to travel through the Rift in the dark. Instead, she led me around the back of the stables to a small wooden platform on the lake's edge. 

'This is Honeyside,' she said. 'Another house of mine.'

'How many do you have?' I asked, following her up the creaky wooden stairs. 

'I have properties everywhere,' she said. 'I won't deny that I'm proud to have come to Skyrim as a penniless prisoner intended for the chopping block to becoming a Thane in every hold, owning some of the nation's most valuable estates, and having various other titles to my name. People here either love me or hate me for it.'

'Next thing we know, what with all your fame and fortune, you'll have a cult building shrines to you in remote places,' I remarked. She smirked as we stopped before the door to her house and she fumbled around in the bottom of her knapsack for the key.

'If I did, I wouldn't be the first Dragonborn to have one.' 

'Oh?'

'I went to Solstheim a while back,' she said. 'Another Dragonborn called Miraak had heard about the Greybeards summoning me and sent cultists after me, so I went there to investigate. He had the whole island enthralled, even had his own section of Apocrypha.'

'Hermaeus Mora's plane of Oblivion?'

'Yep,' she said, finally pulling the key out of her bag. 'Well, Daedric lords don't like their champions getting too big for their boots, so Hermaeus Mora helped me get rid of him, on the condition that I serve him as his new champion.'

'So...you're the champion of a Hermaeus Mora?' I narrowed my eyes, a little unnerved.

'Believe me, I've done worse things,' she said.

As Eira pushed the door open and I followed her inside, something struck under my ribs. I remember doubling over in pain and falling to the floor as searing agony quickly spread through my blood and my vision blurred rapidly. For a few seconds I could make out Eira battling with two figures, and then I blacked out.

The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes, my vision still blurry and unable to move my limbs. My entire body felt heavy and throbbed with the worst pain I had ever endured, and there was a strange taste in my mouth, unpleasantly sweet. I was vaguely aware of two figures looming above me, and soft voices that were gradually becoming clearer as a spell lit up in the hand of whoever was on my left.

'He's waking up,' I heard Eira's voice say. I tried to speak, but all that came out of me was a horrid wheezing sound.

'He's completely paralyzed,' said another female voice I didn't recognise. 'To the point that he can't even speak. Can you prepare an antidote for the paralysis?' 

'Here, this one may suffice,' Eira said. She passed a bottle over me to the other woman, who gently tilted my chin up and poured a bitter potion down my throat. I gasped and spluttered when she'd finished, groaning as my body began to tingle, my mobility returning slowly and painfully.

As my vision cleared, I looked to my left at the Dunmer face that was smiling down at me, and had just about enough movement in my face to form a weak frown.

'Who are you?' I croaked, trying to push myself up.

'My name is Dinya Balu,' she said, gently reaching out and pushing me back onto the bed that I was now aware of laying on. 'I'm a Priestess of Mara. Don't try to get up yet.'

'Gods, I feel awful,' I moaned, turning my head to the right to look at Eira as she busied around at her bookshelf, which I noticed was full of books on restoration magic. 'What happened? I feel like I've been brought back from the dead, and not in a nice way.' 

'The Thalmor were waiting here for us,' she said. 'They shot you with an arrow tipped with a poison that very nearly did kill you. I had to resuscitate you three times.' She looked down at me briefly, her eyes unreadable, and then sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing at her temples. 'They also tied up my housecarl in the basement, so I gave her the honour of delivering their death blows. She's taken the bodies to a sewer hatch where hopefully the skeevers can get to them before anyone notices they're missing.' 

'You saved my life.' 

'I did. Multiple times.' She turned to the Priestess of Mara. 'I can manage now, Dinya. I'm sorry I had to wake you at such an hour.'

'Don't apologise, my child,' she said. 'It is my duty to aid those in need.' She stood and bid me a swift recovery as she left the house, a blast of cold air surging in as the door closed behind her, leaving Eira and I alone.

For a moment she didn't say anything, and just stared at the door, her brows knotted a little. I took the chance to study her face - scarred in places, and crisscrossed now with fresh red cuts that were stark against her pale golden skin. Her hair was kept to her shoulders, shining white like the clouds in summer, and a hint of rosy hue illuminated her cheeks. And those eyes, perfect rounded emeralds, reflected back the dim light of the glowing embers in the hearth. 

What was I doing, admiring the Dragonborn of legend like some fine lady from a piece of artwork? This woman was a hardened warrior, not some pretty thing to delight in staring at. All those potions that had been tipped down my throat must have fogged my mind. 

'You should get some sleep,' she finally said. 'If you don't feel up to going to the fort, the Elder Scroll can wait for a few more days. I'd rather you felt well.' 

'Is this your bed?' I asked her.

'Yes,' she said. 'Is that a problem?'

'No, but...where will you sleep?'

'On the floor in front of the fire.'

'What? Don't be so silly. Surely your children have beds here?'

'Yes, but I need to be in here in case your condition worsens again,' she said. 'I'll be fine. I used to sleep outdoors on the floor in a bedroll every night.' 

'Why don't you just share this bed with me?' I hadn't intended for it to sound like that, but she smirked anyway, and I felt my cheeks become hot as I flushed with embarassment.

'Inviting a married woman to bed with you?' she teased. 'That's asking for trouble.'

'I didn't mean it like that,' I huffed, which only made her laugh aloud. 

'Alright,' she said. 'But don't try anything funny.'

 _I wouldn't dream of it_ , I wanted to say, only to realise that I probably would if she weren't married to that insufferable Nord and didn't have the ability to Shout me to pieces. 

I turned over as she pulled off her boots, changed into a set of loose nightclothes and slipped into the bed beside me. She smelled of lavender. The fields at home would bloom with lavender in the height of summer, ready for harvest by the perfumers, who would press it into the oil that Eira had no doubt anointed her neck and wrists with. I found myself thinking the unthinkable, my desires overtaking my thoughts as her heat permeated through the covers to reach me and her breathing slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. 

I fell asleep with lust plaguing my mind, dreaming dreams of stolen kisses and the feverish heat of skin against skin.


	11. Under Mara's Loving Gaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

To my annoyance, I woke up before sunrise, and the house was too cold for me to be able to get back to sleep, no matter how much I tossed and turned and tried to bury myself under the covers. At one point I even considered nestling up to Ondolemar, but I didn't think he'd appreciate that. Instead, I gave up trying to sleep and got up to make a fire, hoping not to wake my patient from his relatively peaceful slumber.

How ironic, that my days as a healer in the Thalmor had allowed me to save a fugitive's life for the second time. I had always been a naturally talented alchemist, adopting a passion for potions when I was just a little girl, but I had known very little about restoration magic when Father signed me up. If it hadn't been for that knowledge which the Thalmor had given me, I might have died long ago. Then again, with all this talk about my destiny, I'd started to wonder if anything in my life could be attributed to me at all, or if everything was simply fate pushing me in its desired direction. 

Once a few flames had ignited in the hearth, I crept over to Ondolemar's sleeping figure and gently touched the back of my hand to his forehead. A little warmer than ideal, but certainly nothing dangerous. I breathed a sigh of relief and watched his face for a moment. He looked younger when he slept. I knew better than most how fear and worry ages you when you're awake and aware of it. His hair was growing quickly, white as snow, I had noticed on the way here as the sun set over the Rift. The starkness of it contrasted with the shadows in his crystalline eyes. It surprised me that he had only ever had one lover - or so he claimed - when he was in possession of such...attractiveness.

There it was again. The admiration, from afar at first, then the eye contact and the joking around, then before you knew what you were doing, you'd done something stupid. It had already happened once before, when I finally felt able to move on from Thaduin, and began courting a man in Cyrodiil. His name was Silus Vantinius, and he was a merchant in the Imperial City who helped me get off the streets. He was kind, generous, respectful, loving, and intelligent, everything a woman might look for. Yet he wasn't able to give me what I really wanted - excitement, adventure, and freedom. I found myself feeling trapped, and sought thrills in another man's bed.

My secret lover was a far more dangerous type - a thief called Eltane, dark and mysterious, and in it purely for the sex. I didn't care. All I wanted was to feel alive, and he made me feel that way. I didn't care that he had no respect for me, or that he had three illegitimate children by three different women that he did nothing for, or that he always had a bounty on his head. At least, I didn't care until he gained my trust enough for me to foolishly let him hide in Silus' basement when the law came for him. I left the house, and when I came back, we had been burgled, and Eltane had left a note telling Silus everything. Silus kicked me out on the street. That's when I went north.

I didn't want what happened to Silus and I to happen between me and Vilkas over pure lust. Ondolemar was one of my own kind, and that alone was responsible for my attraction to him. My very blood persuaded me to desire a fellow Altmer, I half-heartedly reminded myself. Deep down, I think I knew that was a load of rubbish; I didn't go getting all flustered over Durnehviir just because we both had dragon souls, so why would blood be any different? Still, it was easier to believe than whatever the truth might be.

Reluctantly I turned my stare away from his face and pulled on some proper clothes, a basic teal dress with a brown bodice and apron over it, and slipped on some shoes. Grabbing the first bucket I saw, I headed out of the front door to fetch some water from the well.

The city was quiet, although a couple of market traders were already setting up for the day. Madesi gave me a cheery greeting as I passed, and Grelka just glowered at me like she always did. I fixed the bucket to the ropes and lowered it down into the depths of the well, letting it fill, and hoisting it up again, careful not to spill the water. 

When I returned to Honeyside, Ondolemar was still asleep, but he had turned over. I poured some of the water into a pot and set it above the hearth. Whilst waiting for it to boil I decided to clean up a bit, so took the nearest broom from its position against the wall and began to sweep towards the front door as quietly as I could.

'Domesticity doesn't suit you,' came the croaking voice of Ondolemar, who rubbed at his waking eyes. I felt nerves fluttering in my stomach at the sound of his voice, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at myself.

'I'm sorry if I woke you,' I said.

'It doesn't matter.'

'How do you feel?'

'Tired.' He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. 'And dizzy.'

'Can you walk?'

He stood up, stumbling slightly, and I rushed over to hold on to him, worried he might fall. He clamped his hand over mine, trying to steady himself. I shuddered at his touch. 

'Sit down,' I said gently. He yielded to the command without a word. 'We don't have to go to Fort Dawnguard this morning.'

'I feel useless,' he hissed. 

'You never asked to get shot,' I said. 'The poison they used was incredibly potent. You need to rest.' I went back to the hearth, retrieved a cup, and filled it with boiling water. 'I'll be back in a few minutes.'

I took the water downstairs to my alchemy lab, and set about making a more specialised potion to combat the effects of the poison. Iona came out from out from her chambers and greeted me with a simple nod. She wasn't the talking type.

'Would you make sure that Ondolemar doesn't try and go anywhere?' I asked her.

'Yes, Thane,' she replied, proceeding up the stairs. 

I continued grinding beehive husk in a mortar and pestle, working it to fine dust and ignoring my aching hands. I mixed it with the water and poured it into a potion bottle, then crushed some garlic and mixed that with melted troll fat. It smelled rancid, but it would do the trick. I cracked open a rock warbler egg, whisked it, added it to the bottle along with the garlic and troll fat, then shook it as hard as I could. 

'Drink this,' I told Ondolemar as I carried it up the stairs. 'All at once.'

'What is it?'

'It's what you need,' I answered, holding out the bottle. 'I'd hold your nose if I were you.' 

He looked down at the bottle uncertainly, then pinched his nose and drank the whole thing down in one. 

'What in Phynaster's name did you just make me drink?!' he exclaimed, casting the empty bottle aside and retching a little. 

'A potion, obviously.' I rolled my eyes at his grimace. 'That should get rid of any remaining poison in your system and hopefully you'll feel right as rain within a couple of hours.'

'I suppose thanks are in order,' he grumbled.

'You're welcome. Now, I'm going out today, but I want you to stay here. I think we're safe from any Thalmor for now as long as they remain ignorant of those two bastards' deaths, but regardless, you need to recover. Iona will be keeping an eye on you.'

'I'm not a child, you know.'

'No, but you are still partially paralysed, and I want you resting up so we can leave this afternoon. Do we have an understanding?'

I was half-expecting another 'yes, ma'am' out of him, but instead he just sunk back against the bed with his arms folded, muttering complaints to himself. 

'Good,' I said, pulling on a light cloak and walking out into the city. The sun was fully up now, casting morning light over the streets of Riften, and all the merchants had set up for the day, including Brynjolf, who winked at me, making me pause in front of him.

'Glad to see you finally came to your senses,' he said. 'Ready to make some coin?'

'No,' I huffed.

'You're trying my patience, lass,' he mumbled as I walked away towards the temple. 

I wasn't particularly religious - I believed in the gods, but only as forces that were beyond us, and I never expected miracles from them. Still, the Temple of Mara was a comforting place. Whether that was because of divine influence or simply because of the people there, I did not care. Seeing neither Maramal or Dinya in sight, I took a seat before the altar and spent a few moments in quiet reflection.

It hadn't been too long since I'd walked between these pews and stood in front of that altar beside Vilkas. That had been one of the first truly happy days in my life for a long time, but the joy was already waning. Maybe I didn't deserve that kind of happiness. Perhaps a Dragonborn couldn't love the way an ordinary person could. Yet I _had_ loved - my heart still fluttered, soared, ached, and broke, just like everyone else's. 

'Eira,' greeted Maramal as he walked in from the back rooms. 'Dinya told me all about your friend. I trust he feels well again?'

I smiled, nodding. 'Mostly, yes.'

He came and sat beside me, letting out a long breath and placing his hands on his knees. 'I can see that something troubles you.'

I sighed. 'It's about Vilkas and I.'

'Are you not happy?'

'Well...no, not really. I don't think either of us are.'

He frowned, turning to face me. 'A marriage requires a lot of time and effort, and I think you may struggle to find time for your home life.'

'I do,' I admitted. 'But that can't be the only reason. People go off to war and still their marriages survive. I can hardly look him in the eye, and I...'

'You can tell me.'

'I think about...other people.' 

'Desire is not love, Eira.'

'I know, I know, it's just...I don't think I love him anymore.' I let out a shaky breath and wiped away a tear that ran down my cheek. 'I'm so confused, Maramal, I don't know what I want anymore.' 

'You made a vow, remember? 'Now and forever'. You can't make a promise like that and forsake it after a few months.'

'Well it's alright for you!' I spat, feeling my rage rearing up. 'You and Dinya are priests of Mara, your love must be blessed by a goddess! I don't have that privilege! I should never have got married, fine, but I don't want your lectures about wedding vows and how fickle and immoral you think me to be.'

'I don't think you're fickle or immoral,' he said calmly. 'I just think you haven't really given your marriage a chance yet. Every couple hits bad times, and yours will probably last longer because you have less time together to resolve them. You need to be patient.'

'I'm sorry, Maramal,' I sighed. 'I didn't mean to get angry.'

'No worries.' He smiled as I stood to leave. 'But Eira, don't cheat on Vilkas. Remember the difference between love and lust. You may think you would be happier with someone else, but nine times out of ten, that's not true.'

'Thank you,' I said to him, walking out of the temple out into the stale air of Riften. 

There was a commotion in the marketplace, and I hurried towards it. A crowd had gathered, centred around Brynjolf, who was laughing nervously, holding up his hands.

'Now now, let's not do anything rash,' he was saying. 

'What's going on?' I demanded of the crowd. Several people turned to look at me, including Brynjolf, whose eyes widened with a plea. 

'We've had enough of this crook and his dodgy goods,' said Brand-Shei. 'So we're gonna teach him a little lesson.' The rest of the crowd responded with cheers of agreement, closing in on Brynjolf.

'Oh, drop it, all of you,' I called. 'Surely you all know better than the cross the Guild?'

'Screw the Guild!' said Grelka. 'We're sick of being scared of these bastards. Let's bloody him up and leave him in the Ratway for the rest of them to find!' The crowd cheered again.

'Alright, but I'll sleep soundly whilst your business and homes are overturned and cleared out by thieves in the night. Or, failing that, if you rattle them badly enough, they might just call in a few friends from the Brotherhood.' That got their attention, with a few fearful faces exchanging glances. 'I don't fancy being murdered, but if you don't mind, go ahead.'

'I think I'll pass on this one,' said Madesi, pushing out of the crowd back to his stall. 

'Me too,' said Bolli, heading over to where Nivenor stood waiting for him with her hands on her hips.

'Whatever,' mumbled Balimund, returning to the forge. Others followed, leaving only Brand-Shei, Grelka and Mjoll standing against Brynjolf.

'Hmph,' said Mjoll. 'You got away this time, wretch, but we'll be waiting.'

'So will I,' said Brynjolf, grinning infuriatingly at Mjoll. She and the other two dispersed, and Brynjolf looked up at me.

'It seems I owe you my gratitude, lass,' he said. 'They would have killed me if they had the chance.'

'This doesn't mean I'm interested in thieving for you, Brynjolf.'

He chuckled. 'You'll come round eventually. Most do.'

I walked back to Honeyside, shaking my head. Inside, Iona was sat at the table, sipping from a flagon.

'He's downstairs,' she said bluntly. 'In the enchanting lab.'

I descended into the basement, where surely enough, Ondolemar was fully mobile and searching through the cupboards of my enchanting laboratory.

'I told you that potion would make you feel better,' I said, prompting a scowl. 'What are you looking for?'

'Soul gems,' he replied. 'Black ones.'

I crossed over to the chest in the corner of the room and rummaged through it, pulling out a black soul gem. 'Here,' I said, handing it to him. His fingers brushed against mine and I felt goosebumps rising on my neck.

'Thank you,' he said.

'What are you enchanting?'

'My mace.'

'Alright, but don't be long. Seeing as you seem to have made a good recovery, I want to leave in an hour.'

'I'll be ready.'

'Good.' I turned to leave him to his enchanting, feeling his eyes on me the same way I did when I walked out of Markarth Keep. Fate has strange ways of surprising you. How could it be that within three weeks, Ondolemar had turned from little more than an acquaintance into a constant presence in my life? I now shared every moment with him, almost every aspect of my life. Even my bed.

But we hadn't shared a bed. Not in _that_ way. 

Although I would have.

If it were possible to glare at yourself, I would have done that exactly. I had to take Maramal's advice and work on my relationship with Vilkas, not entertain lewd fantasies about other men, and certainly not about Ondolemar, who would probably be about as interested in me as he would be a hagraven. 

Letting out a long, tense breath, I began to pack for the journey.


	12. Ivarstead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

'I didn't mean to call him Hammerfell trash,' I was saying to Eira after we had practically been chased out of Dayspring Canyon by the Dawnguard. Our meeting with their leader Isran had not gone well; when Eira had left the room, I foolishly told him about my former allegiance to the Thalmor, and being a Redguard, he did not take to my presence any better than I did to his.

'You don't call someone a racial slur by accident, Ondolemar.'

'It slipped out.' 

'Slipped out? You humiliated me in front of the entirety of the Dawnguard!' She shook her head as we emerged on the other side of the cave that separated the canyon from the rest of the Rift. 'Whatever, it's happened now. I'll write a letter of apology to Isran when I get the chance.'

'Where are we headed now?'

'Ivarstead,' she replied, hoisting the Elder Scroll further up onto her back. 'It's on the other side of the Rift, so we'll stop in Riften and get a carriage. We should get there by nightfall.'

We walked back to Riften in relative silence. She led the way, humming quietly to herself as she traversed roads she had come to know so well. I had been in Skyrim longer, but being stuck in Understone Keep had left me a stranger to this land I'd been living in for several years. Travelling with Eira had made me see that it did in fact have a beauty of its own, in these wild places, away from the underwhelming cities. 

My thoughts turned, as they often did in these silences, to my time in service to the Dominion, and my younger self who was gradually chiselled away by the Thalmor to shape the person I'd become. Altmer aren't considered to be truly adults until their mid-forties, when men are halfway through their short lives, and the Thalmor rarely accepted anyone under the age of twenty-five into training. Wizards had to train for at least ten years before being allowed to become battlemages, and fifteen to become justiciars. It was little wonder that the Thalmor would have won the Great War if not for the White-Gold Concordat - we had the advantage of years of training.

It was 4E 174 when I completed my training, the year that the Dominion's armies assaulted the Imperial City, and being inexperienced I was deployed to the relatively stable territories in Southern Hammerfell, where I initially spent most of my time guarding and shadowing the third emissary. It was an honourable position for one with so little experience, and one I gained through extraordinary magical talent and the input of my father. Still, it wasn't good enough for my family, and they pulled strings to have me take over one of the third emissary's roles as interrogator, the worst job I ever did. 

'How old are you?' I asked Eira, wondering if she had been involved with the war. 

'That's not the type of question you ask a lady,' she joked. 'I'm sixty-three. What about you?'

'Sixty-seven.'

'Why, we're more or less the same age,' she noted. Four years difference was nothing when you lived for centuries. 'I was expecting you to be much older.'

'Why is that?'

'Because you're grumpy,' she chuckled. 'Anyway, why do you ask?'

'You're probably slightly too young to have been in the Thalmor during the First War with the Empire.'

'Yes, only a little, but even if I had been older, my father wouldn't have made me join with the war going on. I can give him that much credit, at least. Did you fight?'

'No, I didn't fight,' I answered. 'I only entered the ranks towards the end, so I was only involved in...administrative work.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Interrogation?'

'Yes,' I murmured. 

'But you must have been little more than a child!' 

'I'd only just finished my training. I was initially the personal wizard to the third emissary, but I took over his interrogation duties, and not by choice. My family made me do it. They said that the only way up was to take every opportunity.'

Eira was quiet for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, then exhaling as she hoisted up the Scroll again. 'Sometimes, families are the worst.'

'Yes, they are,' I agreed.

Riften stables came into sight, and the pungent smell of the canal was carried on the wind. We approached the carriage driver, who was sat with his eyes closed and head turned to the dusk light. 

'How much to Ivarstead?' Eira asked, making him jolt and look down at us.

'Twenty septims,' he replied. 

'Take us there,' she said, climbing into the back. I followed her and placed my satchel on the floor of the carriage. 'How quick can you be?'

'It takes four hours to get to Ivarstead from here.'

'Make it two, and I'll double your pay.'

'Hmph. I'll see what I can do.'

**********

The driver got us to Ivarstead in a little over two hours, but Eira doubled his pay anyway. We were dropped off on the other side of the bridge that led to the small town, and Eira took a moment to appreciate the scenery. The last glowing embers of sunlight were fading away on the horizon, and above us an aurora danced in the night sky. Eira's eyes reflected it, even greener by its light, as she watched in wonder. Even I had to admit, you didn't see a sight like that in the skies of Auridon. Ribbons of light wrapped themselves around the summit of the mountain by which the town sat.

'That's the Throat of the World,' said Eira, nodding towards the mountain. 'Our destination.'

'We have to go to the summit?' I asked.

'All the way. It's an awkward climb. You get hot walking the seven thousand steps, but if you don't keep your layers on, the wind chill might be the death of you.'

'Seven thousand steps?' I echoed.

'I probably should have told you about this part before letting you come along,' she said. 'I don't know if there are actually seven thousand, and I can't think why anyone would take time to count. Imagine losing count halfway up and having to start all over again? Anyway, you're free to wait down here until I return. If I return.'

'What do you mean, 'if' you return? What is it you've got to do up there?'

'There's a wound in time,' she explained. 'When the ancients fought Alduin, they sent him forward into the future using the Elder Scroll, because there was no Dragonborn to challenge him. I need to read the Scroll at the time wound to learn the Shout they used to force him to land, and...it's quite likely he'll sense it and show up for a fight.'

'Gods,' I breathed, feeling a cold knot of despair form in my stomach. 'Are you saying you could die up there?'

'It's a possibility I've accepted. I leave it to Akatosh, Auriel, whatever he's really called, to decide whether I survive the encounter or not, and thus whether the world will end.' 

'You're not going to die,' I asserted. 'You're not abandoning me here to watch the end of days.'

She smiled, looking at me, _really_ looking at me for what felt like the first time. A moment of silence passed between us before she looked away. 'I'm glad you're here with me, Ondolemar.'

'I'll come up with you.'

'Good,' she said quietly, turning her gaze back to the mountain. 'You'll have to wait in High Hrothgar with the Greybeards. But...' 

'But what?' 

'If Alduin defeats me...I imagine High Hrothgar will be his next target. You'll die.'

'If Alduin defeats you, I'll die anyway.' I found myself seeing a double meaning in my own words. Of course I would literally die if a dragon burned me up, but I was sure my heart would die first from the knowledge that she was dead, and I would no longer care if the world ended. Eira was all I had. 

'Come on. Let's get in the warm.' 

She led me to the inn, where the warmth from the fire pit kissed my numb hands and cheeks. The innkeeper smiled at our approach, clapping his hands together.

'What can I get for ya?' he said.

'Do you have any rooms available?'

'I have two singles,' he said. 'That alright?'

'Perfect,' said Eira, handing the innkeeper a purse full of septims. 

'It's the two on your left,' he said. 

Eira turned to me. 'We can go straight to bed or stay up for a while, your choice.'

'By the look in your eyes, I can tell you'd rather stay up.'

She grinned. 'If this could be my last night on Nirn, I'd prefer to get drunk enough to forget about my potential death.' 

'I bet a hundred septims I can drink you to the ground.'

'You're on! Wilhelm, fetch us your strongest ale!' 

Once people in the inn began to realise what was happening, they crowded around us, watching and cheering as we knocked back bottle after bottle. I felt fine until about seven bottles in, when the alcohol hit me and I found myself clinging onto some farmer for support, whilst Eira was cackling madly as my vision swayed. She had another, and another, and more people came into the inn to watch us. I struggled to keep up with her until she stumbled and collapsed onto the floor. I remember laughing at her and bellowing crassly about how I'd won, and the concerned innkeeper came in with a bucket of cold water to dunk her head in when she wouldn't come round. She woke up, dazed, and that's when she was taken to her bed, and I was sent to mine.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up in the chair rather than in the bed, with a pounding headache and stiff neck, wondering why in Magnus' name I had been so foolish. I went into Eira's room and shook her gently.

'Wake up,' I said. 'Eira? Get up. Wake up!'

'Huh?' came the groggy reply, and she turned over, her hair across her face. I pushed it out of her eyes and shook her again.

'You're supposed to be saving the world today.'

She made a groaning sound and turned back over. Clearly, the gentle approach wasn't going to work. 

Leaving the room, I took the bard's flute from its place on the bar. I re-entered and poked Eira in the ribs with it.

'Ow!' she cried.

'Get up, or I'll do it again.'

'Urgh, fine.' She slowly rolled over, clutching her head. 'By the gods, my _head_...'

I replaced the flute back on the bar and sat on one of the benches at the side of the room. Eira stumbled in, digging her fingers into her eyes. 

'I need water,' she said. As if on cue, the innkeeper emerged from his room and laughed at the sight of us.

'Aha, last night's entertainment! Feeling rough today are we?' He went and leaned behind the bar. 'Your tab totals three hundred septims, by the way.'

'Oh gods,' said Eira. 'I don't have three hundred septims. Not on me, anyway.'

'Ah, no matter. You brought in more customers than I've had in here in a long time. I made enough money last night to last me a month, even without that three hundred.'

'Your kindness won't be forgotten, Wilhelm.'

He put two red bottles up on the bar. 'Get these down your necks and you'll feel right as rain.'

We both did as he bid us, glad of the sobriety that the healing potions restored to our bodies. Eira turned to me and sighed.

'Ready to make the climb?'

'Ready as I'll ever be.'


	13. High Hrothgar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

We were blessed with clear weather for half of the climb, but further up, strong winds sent snowdrifts into our faces. My lips were quickly turning numb, and I pulled my fur cloak tightly around myself. 

As we ascended, I contemplated what awaited me at the summit. I had already written a will, which was folded in my pocket, ready for me to give to Ondolemar before going to the top alone in case I never came down again. I wanted all of my properties to be used as places of refuge for when Alduin and his allies overran Tamriel, in the hope that some may survive long enough for the Blades to round the able-bodied up and train them to kill dragons. Even if men, mer and beasts couldn't win against them, we could take a few of the bastards down with us, and make them fight for their victory. I would also leave the Elder Scroll in the care of the Greybeards if any survived Alduin's inevitable attack on High Hrothgar, with instruction to attempt to use it to cast the World-Eater adrift once more. They probably wouldn't agree, but I believed that prolonging the world was the right thing to do - Auriel willing, a new Dragonborn stronger than me could emerge at the time he did again, and he could be put to his end. 

The wind was unbearable. I looked back, my hair whipping my face, checking that Ondolemar was still behind me. He was just visible through the drifting snow, a hand out to try and shield his eyes. I was trying to conserve energy, but it was apparent I needed to do something about the conditions.

'Lok Vah Koor!' I Shouted into the sky. The winds gradually died down, the snow settling back onto the rocks. Ondolemar rubbed snow out of his eyes, and I paused to let him catch up, unable to suppress a laugh when I saw snow had clustered in his beard.

'You could have done that sooner,' he grumbled, trying to maintain a scowl as he dusted the snow away from his face.

'I'm trying to retain my strength the best I can,' I said. 'This climb is bad enough.'

'Are you going to be fighting Alduin in that?' he said as we walked side by side along the path, gesturing to my attire.

'No,' I said. 'I left some armour up at High Hrothgar the last time I was here.'

'Good.' I saw what looked like relief wash over his features. He seemed to be in a low mood since we set off. 

'Are you alright?' I asked him.

'I should be the one asking you that.'

'I'm fine,' I said. 'What will be will be. You haven't seemed yourself today.' 

'Don't worry about me. Let's focus on getting up this gods-forsaken mountain.'

Without the high winds, the rest of the climb was as pleasant as it ever gets. Soon the monastery loomed ahead, the dark stone contrasting with the snow that blanketed the craggy mountainside. Every step brought me closer to moment I had spent weeks preparing for. 

As we reached the top of the monastery's stairs, I stopped and turned to Ondolemar. 'You can talk to Arngeir, but the rest of the Greybeards won't speak. And please, whatever you do, be polite.'

'I know better than to get on the wrong side of the Greybeards,' he assured me. We looked at each other quietly for a moment. He had a purposeful frown on his face, as if silently asking why it was necessary to stop.

'Good,' I muttered, pushing open the door. 

High Hrothgar was cold as always, but having worked up a sweat from climbing the steps, it was almost pleasant. The Greybeards immediately floated towards the central room, bowing with their hands together to greet me. 

'Dragonborn,' Arngeir greeted. 'You have the Elder Scroll. Good. Paarthurnax awaits you.' He turned to look at Ondolemar, an expression of surprise arranging itself on his face. 'Who is this you have brought with you?'

'This is Ondolemar. He's...my friend. You don't mind if he waits here until I return, do you?'

'Not at all,' said Arngeir. 'When you're ready, Dragonborn.'

I briefly went into the Greybeards' dining hall, where I had stored a set of dragonplate armour, minus the helmet, and switched my travelling clothes for it. The weight of the armour was only just bearable, but this was no time for choosing light over heavy. Besides, there was a satisfaction in knowing I was wearing the remains of Alduin's kin into battle. I strapped the Elder Scroll onto my back again.

When I returned, I looked at Ondolemar first, and might have smiled at his shocked stare were it not for the context of the occasion. Instead, I merely nodded at Arngeir, a confirmation that I was ready.

'Now go. Meet your fate, Ysmir, Dragon of the North.' 

I ascended another flight of stairs to the doors that led out to the courtyard, then paused and looked back. My eyes locked with Ondolemar's, and I cleared my throat quietly.

'You can walk me to the gate, if you like.' Without a word he stepped forward and followed me out into the courtyard, the doors clicking shut behind us. I made a conscious effort to walk slowly, my heavy boots sinking into the snow.

'How do you feel?' he asked me after a moment of silence.

'Scared,' I admitted. 

Another brief silence, then he spoke. 'The armour...is it...?'

'Dragon bones,' I said. 'I fashioned it myself for the purpose of facing Alduin. And it's bloody heavy.' I heard a faint rumble of laughter, and then our voices died away. The gate was coming closer, far too quickly, and I felt myself starting to shake with fear. 

We came to the fire that blazed beside the tower, and stopped. I let out a breath as nerves buzzed in my stomach. 

'I feel sick,' I whispered, feeling faint, shaking my head and looking at the ground. 'I can't do this.'

A tear trailed down my cheek, and Ondolemar's hand wiped it away and rested gently on my face, tilting my chin up so that I was staring straight into his eyes.

'Yes, you can,' he said. 'And you will. You have to.' He lifted his hands to his neck, his fingers catching on tanned leather cord, and pulled an amulet over his head. It was a golden sun, just like those on the wayshrines in the Forgotten Vale. He held it in his hand in the space between us.

'I've worn this for over twenty-five years,' he said. 'My mother gave it to me when I left for Hammerfell, so that I might always carry the blessing of Auriel with me. But I think you need it more than I do.' He reached out and placed it around my neck, his fingers brushing lightly against my jaw. My heart leapt at the contact. As I looked at him, I imagined what it might be like to lean forward now, in the most tense of moments, and press my lips against his, eyes closed, oblivious to the world, a stranger to all but the taste, scent, and touch of the one stood before me. The wedding band was sweating under my armour.

'Thank you,' I breathed. 'I'll bring it back if I can.' I handed him the slip of paper in my hand. 'If I don't make it, this is my will. I entrust it to you, should you be lucky enough to make it down this mountain alive.' 

'I won't be needing it,' he asserted. 'But if it makes you feel better, I'll hold onto it.'

I smiled. This was it. I glanced at the gate. Beyond, the wind was roaring. 

'Gods be with you,' said Ondolemar as I turned away and proceeded up to the gate. I felt his eyes trailing me, and wanted desperately to look back. Yet I knew if I did, I would lose my nerve. So I didn't. 

'Lok Vah Koor!' I Shouted to clear the winds in front of me.

As the bad weather enclosed me, cutting me off from the courtyard, I thought of my children, down there in Whiterun, probably playing beneath the branches of the Gildergreen. I thought of Vilkas, and how he had refused to even hear what I had to say, and how it hurt to watch him walk away. I even thought of my father, somewhere across the Abecean Sea, maybe looking out to the mainland, thinking of me, hating me. 

Most of all, I thought of Ondolemar, and the way that even in the face of death, he made me feel alive.


	14. For The Love Of A Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV
> 
> Reference to mods  
> Credit to Bludgeon for Sentinel Falls (PS4)

It wasn't long before the unworldly roaring started. Standing outside in the courtyard next to the monastery's doors, I saw the World-Eater approach. His entire body was covered in black spines, his eyes glowed like Masser in the dead of night, and his teeth gleamed like pale swords as he let a tremulous growl shudder through the air. He flew up to the summit, his roar heralding his arrival, and disappeared beyond the clouds.

Feeling sick with worry, I went inside and tried to distract myself by looking around the monastery. That proved to do little to take my mind off what was happening, since the architecture was plain and grey, probably to encourage meditation. 

Eira's Shout was so loud it shook the very stones of the building. I rushed to the main hall, where the Greybeards were grouped around Arngeir, who frowned at the doors to the courtyard. 

'Dragonrend,' he murmured. 'Alduin will taste fear today.' 

'What's 'Dragonrend'?' I asked, and all eyes fell upon me, as if only just remembering my presence. 

'That is the Shout you just heard,' said Arngeir. 'The Shout to make a dragon land, and force it to experience the concept of mortality. Dragons are shards of Akatosh, or Auriel as he is known to elves. They do not understand death, and so they have no fear. The ancients created a Shout that would make them easier to kill by forcing them to be afraid of death.' 

'I see.' Turning away, wary of their watchful stares, I went back to one of the corridors to be alone. 

Sitting on one of the benches, I drew out from my pocket the folded piece of paper Eira had given me before leaving. I opened it up, tracing my thumb along the delicate cursive of her writing. She had listed her properties, and said they were to be used as refuges if possible. All her armour and weapons had been left to the Blades, with the instruction to round up as many as possible to Sky Haven Temple and train them to take down as many dragons as they could. If the Greybeards survived, they were to read the Elder Scroll and banish Alduin among the currents of time again. If not, she had left the scroll to someone called Dexion, who I imagined was the Moth Priest she had mentioned to me on our way to Fort Dawnguard. She'd left everything else she owned to her children. To Vilkas, she left nothing, only the instruction to have the Companions escort people to Cyrodiil. 

Folding the piece of paper back up, I felt my heart aching in my chest, heavy with the weight of what could come to pass. If Eira died and I lived, I knew I would be better off not living at all. Perhaps I would just deliver her will to her husband and leave, take off somewhere, let a dragon or a sabre cat or some other creature claim me. What would be the point in living in a doomed world devoid of anything or anyone who cared about you?

If Eira lived and the world ended anyway, I could bear it. To watch the end by her side would be the best way to spend the last few minutes of existence. To die by her side would be to die happy. She made me happier than anyone else ever had. In just a few weeks she had made me remember who I was before my military days, and that former self, now restored, felt complete when she was with me. 

Had I been foolish enough, somewhere along the line, to fall in love? And not with anyone, but with the Last Dragonborn, a woman whose life was one of sacrifice and distance, and who was married to another man. The things I would do for a chance to be in that wretched Nord's place...

Gods, it hurt.

**********

Nearly an hour passed, and snow came falling thickly in the courtyard. Something shifted, blurred by the snow and wind, a shadow, growing closer. Frowning, I stood and went back to the main hall, hesitating in front of the doors, then sighed and pushed them open. I kept one hand on my mace and fire in the other.

It was a figure. Female. I rushed forward through the blizzard, and Eira's face came into view, burns reaching up the left side of her face, her hair singed, eyes wild and covered in blood. She looked at me and then collapsed. I caught her in my arms and supported her back into High Hrothgar. She was shaking, from cold, or exhaustion, or shock, or maybe all three. When we got inside, I could hear her breathing raggedly, still clinging on to me.

'Shh,' I hushed. The Greybeards emerged from the corridors, an unwelcome audience.

'I need to get to Whiterun,' she muttered. 

'Not now,' I said. 'You need to recover your strength.' I summoned a healing spell and sent it through her body. Her wounds began to close, the burns fading to leave a faint lattice of scars on her face and neck. Slowly she released her grip on me and stood straight again, but her eyes remained sunken. 

'Alduin fled,' she croaked, rubbing her throat gently and trying to clear it. 'I need to find out where he went. One of his allies will know.'

'Healing spells will only do so much,' I told her. 'You need to rest before rushing off to do anything else.'

'Your friend is right, Dragonborn,' said Arngeir. 'Alduin is weakened by your victory against him, and he will have fled to regain some power. You must do the same.'

Eira sighed. 'Fine, but I'm not staying here.' She turned to me. 'There's a house northeast of Ivarstead, Sentinel Falls. We can get there in just under an hour.'

'You own it?'

'In a manner of speaking.'

'Alright then.' 

Eira walked out of the room for a few minutes and returned in her travelling clothes. She and Arngeir exchanged a bow of heads as we departed High Hrothgar to descend the mountain. When the doors closed behind us, I felt glad to be away from the watchful eyes of those monks. 

'How do you feel?' I asked Eira after a few minutes of trudging through the snow. 

'Tired,' she said. 'But fine.' The edge in her voice betrayed her.

'No, you're not.' 

'I said I'm fine!' she snapped, catching my eye as I raised an eyebrow at her. 'Oh, for gods' sakes, I'm just...well, I didn't expect this to happen.'

'What didn't you expect?'

'I thought that today I would either die in vain or live in victory,' she said. 'It hadn't occurred to me that Alduin might flee, and I would be walking down this mountain with him still out there.' 

I found myself at a loss for words. What could I say? I couldn't tell her that it didn't matter, because it did. Nor could I say it would be alright, because maybe it wouldn't. Such reassurances are foolish.

Instead, I let silence fill the space between us, wishing that I knew how to reach out.


	15. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV
> 
> Reference to mods  
> Credit to Bludgeon for Sentinel Falls (PS4)

By the time we reached Sentinel Falls, I thought I might collapse with exhaustion. Yet as I laid in my bed, having finally scrubbed the blood and dirt from my body, I found myself unable to sleep. A gentle pattering of spring rain could be heard from outside, along with a soft whistling wind, as though the voice of Kynareth herself tried to sing me a lullaby, to no avail. 

Sitting upright, I gave up trying to sleep, and instead reached into my bedside cabinet for a stamina potion and a copy of 'A Hypothetical Treachery'. Despite the play's short length, it bored me terribly, and I snapped it shut and cast it aside, drinking the stamina potion before getting out of my bed and deciding to make myself busy. 

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I noticed I still had Ondolemar's amulet on. It gleamed in the dim glow of the candles I had lighted, inviting me to investigate it. I traced the grooves of it with my thumb and forefinger, frowning at it in the mirror. He would want the amulet back, I thought, and so I crept down the stairs to the other bedroom where he was sleeping. 

But he wasn't asleep. He was sat up on the bed, fully clothed, a lantern flickering on the bedside table, a closed book on his lap and on top of it a sheet of paper. At first, he didn't see me lingering in the doorway. I watched him scribbling ink across the paper, his expression one of focus and mild irritation. Once he'd finished, he placed the quill in the ink pot beside the lantern and blew gently on the page. I knocked on the open door. He looked up, startled and with an almost defensive glint in his eye, and folded the paper quickly, sharpening the crease with his nail. 

'You should be asleep,' he said.

'So should you.' I came further into the room and he put the book and note on the floor beside his bed. 'I still have your amulet.'

He stared at my hand that was stretched out to him, the amulet curled in the nest of my palm. 'You keep it,' he said. 'Your work isn't done yet.'

'Are you sure?' 

He nodded. There was a strange solemnity in his eyes. 'You need it more than I do.' 

'Thank you.' I replaced it over my neck, pulling my hair out from under the cord. 

There was an awkward atmosphere in the room. His gaze swept over my body and his cheeks reddened slightly; I was only wearing a thin nightgown that did little to conceal my bare skin underneath. Instinctively I folded my hands in front of my most intimate area, but that only pushed my breasts together, making them all the more visible. Ondolemar averted his eyes, crossing his legs. 

'You need to rest after today,' he said, looking down at his hands. 

Mad thoughts filled my head. I knew what I wanted - to kiss him, touch him, let his hands roam over me, feel the heat of his skin on mine, let him fill me, then sleep beside him, in his arms, nose to nose, chest to chest. The wedding ring wasn't on my finger. I'd left it in my room before I bathed and forgot to put it back on. Maybe subconsciously I had chosen not to wear it.

Did he feel the same? Did he desire me? He seemed to, by the way his face flushed at my revealing attire, but that was just physical. A man could look at any woman and want her body. Did he want _me_ , all of me, not just my body but my mind, my spirit, my heart? He'd sworn off love long ago, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel it.

What about Vilkas? Could there still be hope for my marriage? If there was, I would be a fool to let it go for one night of bliss. My children adored him - they called him 'papa'. Sofie and Sissel would hate it if we split up, and I knew myself - I wouldn't be able to stop myself from going back for more, and if I did that, Vilkas was bound to find out. My emotions were a quick-running river that threatened to sweep me away, and I was a flimsy raft adrift on its flow. If I gave in to my desire, I would be chasing it for the rest of my life. Addicted. 

If there was hope for my marriage, would I be thinking this way?

Too many questions. Too many risks.

'You're right,' I eventually said to Ondolemar, retreating out of the room, my hand lingering on the doorway. 'Sleep well.'

'Goodnight, Eira.'

**********

It was already midday when I awoke after finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. After pulling on a set of plain robes and running a brush through my hair, I went downstairs to find Ondolemar, nerves churning my stomach. I prayed that last night's moment between us hadn't created lasting awkwardness.

He wasn't in his room, nor was he in the bathing room, or the dining area, or the labs. I called out his name and no answer came from anywhere in the house. Heading back to his room I noticed that his satchel was gone, as was his mace. The bed was still made up, not slept on, and beside it the closed book sat on the table, the folded paper upon it, now with a word gleaming black upon it. My name. I crossed over to it and ran my hand along the writing. It was long dry. Opening the letter, I braced myself for the inevitable.

_Eira,_

_I am sorry that I must leave you at this point in your journey, but I am afraid that I cannot continue to travel with you. I find myself in a difficult position, and thus have decided to go north and find my own way._

_I wish you every success for the future, whatever that may hold._

_Gods guide you._

_\- Ondolemar_

Panicking, I read the brief farewell over and over, then threw it to the floor, cursing. I pulled back the sheets of the bed and felt underneath them - they were cold. He must have left in the night.

I ran upstairs and grabbed my knapsack, then hurtled outside, my footsteps thudding on the timber walkway that led to the exit of Sentinel Falls. The letter said he went north. Did he go towards Whiterun or Windhelm? He wouldn't have chosen the way I was supposed to be going, surely, so he must have headed to Windhelm. I ran down the mountainside, away from the Rift, and into Eastmarch.

Yelling his name proved fruitless. I travelled to Windhelm and beyond, asking everyone on the road if they'd seen him, crying his name out into the sky, until eventually I gave up, trudging back to Windhelm with aching feet and a heavy, angry, broken heart. He was gone. He had abandoned me to meet my destiny alone, when I had needed him there, wanted him with me so desperately. The only companion to me in all these weeks, the only one who seemed to care or even try to understand how I felt. He stepped in to be by my side when my own husband wouldn't. He'd educated and bonded with my daughter, who would be devastated that he wasn't coming back. Most of all, he'd let me fall in love with him, finishing off my marriage, and cutting a wound into my very soul. 

Drowning my sorrows in Candlehearth Hall that night, I swore that if I ever saw him again, he would be dead to me.


	16. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Skyrim's northern coastline was thoroughly dreary. The mists that rolled in from the Sea of Ghosts obscured anything further than twenty feet away most days, and the cold was bitter and unending.

I couldn't have stayed with Eira, or else I might have ruined both of our lives. At least, that's what I kept telling myself every single moment of every day, when she possessed every thought in my mind. In truth it was a purely selfish decision, designed to try and repress my feelings for her. If I'd realised that separation would only make the pain worse, not better, I might not have gone at all. 

Living out on the raw expanse of the coast was supposed to leave me unable to think of anything other than the need to survive, but instead I only had more time to reflect on my thoughts. Other than the harsh conditions, the greatest threat was the odd snow bear or troll, and they generally kept away from me. Living off horker and clams had proved to be a bore, so on a few occasions I had resorted to walking six miles to Dawnstar for supplies and praying bandits hadn't overtaken my camp by the time I returned.

If Eira wasn't the Archmage, I would have gone to the College of Winterhold and locked myself away there for the rest of my days, suffocating my feelings with study, training the life out of me. The Thalmor had done it to me before, so I could have done it myself, surely? 

When I left, I had expected my love for Eira to fade away over time, not to grow as it had over the last month or so since I snuck out in the middle of the night. Every day was more of a struggle, not less. Each passing moment only increased my temptation to pack up and go and find her. 

She was probably in Whiterun, with her children. And _him_. Was he still making her miserable? Probably not. With me out of the way, they had probably found time to reconcile and strengthen their bond. 

The dragons were still around, but the world didn't appear to be ending, so I presumed she was still alive, and that Alduin was too. No contact with the outside world for all these weeks had left me clueless about what was happening beyond my own enclosed universe of heartache and misery. Maybe a dragon would swoop down tomorrow and snatch me from this wretched place. I no longer cared. 

When I awoke to a clear morning, I breathed a sigh of relief. Endless fog has a way of addling the mind. Only a few wisps of cloud scarred the blue face of the sky, and the sun would have felt warm had it not been for the biting Atmoran wind blowing inland. 

Having decided that I could not waste one of these rare days, I equipped my bow and a quiver of arrows and set off along the shore to hunt. I could make some money selling the carcass of whatever I killed, which meant I could buy anything which I couldn't find out on the coast and get a room in the inn for the night if the weather took a turn for the worst before I could get back. 

 

**********

People used to stare at me when I walked into Dawnstar with a dead animal slung over my back, but they no longer paid me much heed. The elk I hauled into town was a majestic creature, with antlers almost as wide as I was tall, and a pelt the colour of honey. It had clearly wandered too far north, and I was surprised it made it as far as it did without being easily spotted in the snow by a predator. 

Thoring, the innkeeper, was usually the one to take on my kills, since it saved him having as much stock brought in from holds further south, and I charged him little for it. I lugged the elk up the slopes to the inn, where I spotted Abelone, the maid, chopping firewood. 

'Oh!' she gasped as she caught my eye and straightened. There was a glint of fear and repulsion in her eyes, probably because I looked half-wild, was smeared with animal blood and had a dead elk on my back. 'Uh...you want me to fetch Thoring?' 

'If you don't mind,' I replied. She scuttled away into the inn, glancing back warily as she stepped through the door. A few moments later, Thoring emerged, and smiled. 

'I was wondering when we would see you again, my friend,' he said. 'How's life out in the wild treating you?'

'It doesn't treat me at all,' I answered, prompting a rumble of laughter from him. 

'This elk is large enough to feed the whole inn for a few nights!' he exclaimed. 'Bring it round the back and I'll butcher it now.'

I followed him around the back of the inn to a bloodstained table and lifted the elk off my shoulders, laying it flat on the table. Thoring ran his hand along the smooth antlers and looked up at me.

'How much do you want for him?'

'Whatever you can manage,' I said, turning my gaze to the sea. The fog was starting to roll in again, and the sky had clouded, the wind stronger than before. 'Plus a room for the night if you have one. The weather is changing.'

'I know someone who'll pay money for the head,' he said. 'A landowner on the Whiterun border came by a couple of weeks ago in search of replacements for furniture damaged by bandits or something of the sort. I'm sure Rustleif will take the hide. How about forty septims, plus a room and a few drinks on the house?'

'You have yourself a deal.' 

**********

That night, partly because I was lovesick but mostly because I'd had too much to drink, I wrote a letter to Eira entreating her forgiveness and telling her where I was, sealed it up, and gave it to a courier to deliver. It wasn't until I woke up the next morning that I realised I had made a mistake, and I couldn't even remember most of what I'd written. Had I been foolish enough to disclose my feelings? Even telling her where she could find me was bad enough, as if I expected her to come and find me, as if she would care. She probably hated me. 

Shaking my head at my own idiocy, I concluded that the matter was out of my hands now. I got out of bed and scrubbed away the remaining blood and dirt that I'd been too drunk to get rid of the night before, and looked in the mirror. My hair was almost long enough to tie back. I had lost weight since leaving Sentinel Falls, and felt considerably weaker, being unable to waste any energy on activity that wasn't contributing to keeping me fed. I ran a hand along the scar beneath my ribs where the poisoned arrow had struck and almost killed me. It reminded me of her. 

Thoring was at the back of the inn again, mounting the elk's head on a wooden plaque. He looked up at my approach.

'Heading out?'

'I am. Hopefully my camp hasn't been raided in my absence.'

'Good luck,' he said to me, and I offered him a nod of my head as I turned away to begin the march back to my camp.


	17. Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Dawn. For most of the night I had laid awake, tossing and turning like I did every night. If ever I did sleep it was just to witness another nightmare. Being clamped in Alduin's jaws. The Falmer tearing at my insides. Hermaeus Mora's slow, echoing murmurs. Ondolemar, lying dead in the snow. 

I was furious with him, but I was also petrified at the thought of the danger he could be in. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could pretend that the arm around me was his, that the chest that I lay on belonged to him. Then I would open my eyes, and it was Vilkas, and all I felt was guilt; I should be happy to be here. Vilkas was my husband. 

The previous night was the first time we had shared a bed in months. I wanted a distraction, so we stayed in Breezehome, away from the bustle of Jorrvaskr. It worked, for a while at least, until the tension in my body wore off, and my mind resurfaced. The mind was supposed to be the seat of logic, reason, and rationality, yet mine was a jumbled mess, pieces of my past arranged into a nonsensical mosaic of thoughts and emotions.

Vilkas stirred beside me, his eyes cracking open. I forced a smile onto my face as he turned his head to look at me, and he returned it with a genuine gleam in his gaze.

'Morning, love,' he said, stretching.

'Good morning,' I replied, pushing myself up and looking down at him. 'How did you sleep?'

'Best sleep I've had in weeks,' he answered, winking at me. 'You?'

I sighed. 'I wish I could say the same.'

'Nightmares?' I nodded. 'Come here.' He held me close. I listened to his heartbeat, wanting to cry, wishing I had enough feeling left in me to brew some tears. He stroked my hair, and planted a kiss against my head. We laid there for minutes that dragged out forever.

A knock came at the door. I frowned, sitting up again. 'Who on Nirn could that be at this time in the morning?'

'I'll get it,' I heard Lydia call out, catching a glimpse of her as she went downstairs, already in full armour. We both listened carefully as she opened the door.

'Letter for Eira Galethien,' came a voice, presumably from a courier. 

'Who from?' asked Lydia. 

'A high elf,' said the courier. 'Didn't catch his name.' 

'Alright,' she said. 'I'll make sure she gets this.' The door closed and I glanced at Vilkas, whose expression had turned stormy. 

'There's only one high elf who would be sending you letters,' he grumbled. 'If I were you, I wouldn't even read it.' 

My heart was racing. 'I have to read it, Vilkas. What if he's in trouble?'

'He's using you. Why would you help him when he couldn't be bothered to help you?'

'Let's just see what the letter says.'

Lydia brought it in to me with a bow of her head and then went downstairs. I held it in my hands, staring at it, a thousand thoughts vying for my attention.

'Well?' said Vilkas. 'Aren't you going to open it?'

Fixing him a sideways glare, I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter within. My stomach flipped at the sight of Ondolemar's writing, even scruffier than usual, and slightly smeared as though he had not waited for the ink to dry properly before sending it.

'Read it,' demanded Vilkas. 

'Don't tell me what to do,' I hissed, but squinted at the letter anyway to discern what it said. 

' _Eira,_

_Sorry I left you. Stupid of me. Wish I hadn't done it. Thought it best._

_Want to talk to you. Camp by Sea of Ghosts. Six miles Dawnstar._ '

I frowned at the letter, scanning it again. There was a bloody fingerprint in the corner of the page, and it looked like something had been spilled over it. Holding the page up to my face I breathed in, and smelled ale on the stain.

'Drunk,' I muttered, swinging my legs out of bed and routing through my dresser. 

'You better not be going after that lousy bastard,' growled Vilkas. I turned around and narrowed my eyes at him. There was ice in his stare. So much for our attempt at reconciliation.

'Of course I am,' I spat. 'I want answers. Now I know where he is, he can explain everything.' 

'He doesn't care about you. He never will.' 

'That's not what this is about.' It was. Of course I wanted to know if he did care after all. But not before I punched him in the guts for what he did. I turned to Vilkas, who had pulled on a set of ragged clothes. I adjusted my travelling robes and put on a pair of leather boots, and pulled some bracers over my arms. 'Help me tie these.'

'No.'

'Fine, I'll get Lydia to do it.' 

Lydia gave me a sympathetic smile as I came down the stairs, and without a word set about tying the bracers for me. She patted my shoulder. 'Good journey to you, Thane.'

'Thank you, Lydia.' After grabbing my satchel I was about to stride out, but paused and turned to the stairs. 'Vilkas?' No answer. 'Fine. Bye.'

I should have cared, and I thought I did at the time. Later on, I would come to realise that I had never really cared much for Vilkas' opinion, disregarded it, didn't respect it. That was wrong, but it was the truth. 

Marching out of Whiterun into the light of the newborn day, though my heart burned with anger at being abandoned, it still leapt for joy at the thought of seeing him again. Ever since that moment we spent together in the courtyard of High Hrothgar I had been constantly craving his company. This was beyond desire now - no longer merely a wish, but a need. I was suffocating without him, being drowned by my own emptiness. 

At the stables, I gave a curt nod to Bjorlam. 'Need a ride?' he asked.

'Not today,' I answered, heading for my horse in the stables. Skulvar watched me with narrowed eyes as I untied her and fitted her saddle. 

'Going anywhere exciting?' he said.

'North.' Saddle fitted, I mounted the mare and patted her shoulder gently. 'Don't look at me like that, Skulvar. I'll have your fees on time.'

'Hmph.'

I rolled my eyes at him and gave my horse a gentle kick. She cantered away, and I guided her left. We sped away from the plains towards the iced stretches of the Pale, Ondolemar's letter shifting in my pocket.

**********

Three hours later I arrived in Dawnstar, leaving my horse by the side of the Windpeak Inn and going inside. Thoring was wiping out flagons behind the bar, looking as downcast as ever. He looked up at my approach and forced a smile.

'Ah, here's a woman I'm glad to see,' he greeted, putting down the flagon and leaning across the bar. 'You know you came enquiring after replacements for damaged furniture? Well, a hunter brought in a real beauty of an elk the other day. I managed to mount the head in the hope you'd be interested. If not, I may keep it myself for the inn.'

'That's kind of you, Thoring,' I said, beaming at him. I drew a purse full of septims out of my pocket and placed it on the bar in front of him. 'Here, send it over to Heljarchen Hall for me.'

'This many?' he exclaimed. 'I can't take such an amount for it. I only paid forty!'

'Then consider the rest a tip,' I said. 'Have you seen a male high elf around these parts recently?'

'As a matter of fact, yes I have. Why, the hunter who brought me the elk was a high elf.'

'The hunter...? Did he tell you his name?'

'Nah. I asked, but he said he was trying to keep a low profile. He's come into town a few times.'

'Do you know where I can find him?'

Thoring narrowed his eyes. 'I...well, he's camped somewhere on the shore to the west. Don't know how far.'

'Thanks, Thoring,' I said, turning and dashing out of the building. Once again I mounted the horse and set off towards the shore to the west of Dawnstar. The snow was coming down thick and heavy, obscuring my vision. Pulling up my hood to keep out the chill, I went up to the coast and cantered along, keeping watch for any signs. 

It wasn't long before I spotted a shadow in the distance. As I came closer, I could distinguish the shape of a large tent, similar to the ones used by Khajiit traders. Around it were more objects, dark and long. Fear gripped me as my instinct kicked in and I dismounted, drawing my dagger and summoning a shock spell in the other hand.

Bodies. The soiled remains of Thalmor soldiers and wizards were scattered around the tent, bloodied, arrows sticking out of them like pins, seared by magic. There was no question - I'd found Ondolemar's camp, and I hadn't been the first. He was nowhere in sight. 

Whilst inspecting the still-warm body of one of the wizards, I found a warrant, a fresh, wet bloodstain marking the paper. 

_As instructed, you are to seek out the former commander and bring him to the embassy. He is not to be killed and I expect minimal harm to come to him whilst being transported to me. Failure to comply with these instructions will result in your position being reconsidered._

_We have received intelligence from contacts that he has been frequenting Dawnstar, the hold capital of the Pale, and claims to be camped six miles west of the town. Go to his location and attempt a non-violent arrest._

_This is not a regular arrest mission. You are not dealing with an unskilled Talos worshipper, you are confronting a highly-trained and skilled former member of the Thalmor. Use the power of numbers to your advantage or he will lay waste to you all._

_For the glory of the Aldmeri Dominion!_

_\- Elenwen, First Emissary_

Ondolemar had certainly destroyed them, but that didn't mean he had escaped unscathed. He could be nearby, injured or unconscious. I spotted a trail of footprints and blood leading away from the camp further west, and began to follow them on horseback, but the snow filled them in, and within a few minutes they had all but vanished. 

He couldn't be too far ahead, I assured myself. The bodies were still fairly warm when I searched them, and in these freezing temperatures, that meant a recent kill.

I unsheathed my sword and reached down, using it to push away some snow. It turned up, stained pink. Blood. The trail carried on, but I didn't have time to do this along the whole trail, or he would be gone.

'Ondolemar!' I yelled, my voice dying on the wind. Cursing, I readied my Voice. 'Lok Vah Koor!'

The winds died down and the clouds cleared, revealing the piercing light of the sun. Shielding my eyes, I called out his name again. And again. 

Hours later, I found myself defeated. Exhaustion was setting in for both me and the horse, who was becoming anxious, and I feared I risked her bolting if I carried on much longer. The snow was returning, and I had no energy left to Shout again. Heading west, I went on to Windstad Manor.

That's when I found him, unconscious and bleeding, the snow around him stained red. Dismounting, I sprinted over and shook him, panic freezing my blood.

'By the gods, this can't be happening!' I cried. Trying to calm myself, I felt for his pulse. It was faint. A spell revealed his fading aura. Dying. He must have run himself to exhaustion, lost too much blood, fainted, and now hypothermia was setting in, his lips an unhealthy shade of purple, frost gathering in his hair, skin bleached by the cold.

Straining under the weight, I hauled him up onto the horse and mounted behind him, balancing his limp head against my shoulder and patting the mare to reassure her. I took off my cloak and wrapped it over him, holding him tight to try and keep him warm as we hurried towards Windstad Manor.


	18. Bitter Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

When I started dreaming, I assumed I was dead - that soldier had torn a wide gash in my leg that had bled far too quickly. The rush from the fight had only let me run so far before I collapsed in the snow, finally becoming aware of the pain, having no energy left to cry out for help. The sky had cleared suddenly as I faded out of consciousness, and I prayed for my own soul. 

In the dream, I stood on a sandy shore, looking out to the tumbling waves of an azure sea. The breeze kissed my skin, warm and light. I remembered this place - my mother had brought me here once, a wide stretch of white sand somewhere on Auridon's east coast. It was one of the few times she kept her promise to spend time with me when she was home rather than entertaining her friends and business partners with an excess of extravagant parties. The years had worn away these pleasant memories, replacing them with blood, tears, and guilt. Returning to innocence was impossible now. Yet here, in this place, I could pretend, and perhaps over the days, weeks, months, reality would fade away on the currents of time. 

For what felt like days I walked across the ivory sands. The sun never set, never moved at all, just remained still in the sky, a watchful, silent orb. I found I missed the night, craved the moons and the stars, the dancing ribbons of the aurora against the pitch of the void. There was unique beauty in darkness.

A pale figure was walking towards me, their image rippling in the heatwaves. As they came closer, I saw their shape more clearly - a woman, in a plain white dress. Her hands were folded behind her back. At first I didn't recognise her; I did not know her face. But I would know those green eyes anywhere. She stopped in front of me, and I found myself lost for words, staring. 

'Wake up,' she whispered. My amulet caught the sun where it lay around her neck. 'You've got to wake up.'

'Eira?' 

'Wake up,' she said again, reaching forward and placing a hand on each of my shoulders, shaking me. 'Ondolemar. Can you hear me? Wake up!'

The world around me rippled, darkening, the sun finally setting, unnaturally fast. No stars or moons graced the sky of this black night. The sound of the sea faded away, until I was immersed in silent shadows, with only the feeling of her hands on my shoulders. 

'Wake up,' came her voice again, clearer and louder. 'For gods' sakes, I know you can hear me!'

'Thane,' came another voice, low and distinctly Nordic. 'Perhaps we were too late.'

'No, Valdimar,' she said. 'This bastard is going to wake up. He has explaining to do.' She resumed shaking me, and my eyes cracked open, revealing a blurred line of light. 'See? He's coming round. A healer knows the doomed from the saveable.' 

'I'll take my leave, Thane.'

After opening my eyes fully, it took a moment for them to focus. Eira's face loomed above me, a mixture of relief, satisfaction and sheer rage on her face.

'Fool,' she hissed. 'What were you thinking, camping in the middle of nowhere? You could have died!'

'They came out of the blizzard,' I wheezed, hands going to my throat, tender with bruises where one of the wizards had held me in a suffocating headlock. 'They'll never stop. They'll always find me.'

'Yes, they will, especially if you go off on your own like a blithering idiot and forsake the protection that your only friend in the world would give you.'

'I'm so sorry, Eira.' She sat on the bed beside me, leaning her head back against the wall. 

'Why did you do it?' she sighed. 'I needed you by my side. Did you think of me at all?'

'Yes,' I admitted. 'I didn't want to leave.'

'Then why did you?'

'I...thought I needed to.'

'What kind of explanation is that?' She glowered at me. 'There's something you're not telling me.' 

'No there isn't.' Other than that her presence filled me with utmost joy, that she was more sacred to me than any god, and that I left to stop myself from acting on my heart's only desire. Eira narrowed her eyes, searching my face carefully, then slumped her head back again.

'Whatever. I'm too tired to force the truth out of you right now.'

She folded her arms and let out a long breath. 'I went looking for you. I ran all the way to Windhelm and shouted your name up to the skies like a fool. I scoured the mountains, the hot springs, the eastern coast. You abandoned me. I needed you, and you left me to bear my burdens alone.'

'I'm sorry.'

'So you've said,' she muttered. There were dark circles and bags under her eyes. I examined her face, a question forming in my head. 

'Can I ask you something?'

'What?'

'Have you ever had your face sculpted?' 

Her brow furrowed. 'Can you tell?'

'No, it's just...'

'Go on.'

'Before I woke up, I was dreaming. I thought I was dead. You were there, but you looked different.'

She shifted. 'Hmph. You must have seen a projection of me in your dream when I tried to wake you. Yes, I've had my face altered more than once. When you're being hunted, it can seem like a good option, but I regret it.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. I suppose it's just some silly sentimental reason about my real face that I was born with. Stupid really, seeing as I'm actually better looking since going under the knife.'

'You were beautiful anyway.' The words slipped out, a thought spoken aloud. My cheeks reddened with the horror of realising what I'd just said. Eira laughed, genuinely, and raised an eyebrow.

'It will take more than that to rid me of my anger, but I am flattered nonetheless.' 

'I didn't mean for it to sound like that.'

'No,' she sighed. 'You never do.'

My heart fluttered. 'What do you mean by that?' 

'Nothing.' Foolish, to hope for even a second that she wanted me to pursue her. Of course she didn't.

Resisting the urge to let frustration get the better of me, I changed the subject, to one perhaps even less appropriate. 'How is Vilkas?'

'The usual,' she answered. 'Gods know I've tried to fix this, but nothing works. He was angry when your letter came, told me not to bother going after you.'

'I apologise for the letter. I was - '

'Drunk, yes, I could tell. Anyway, if I had listened to Vilkas, you would be dead.'

'I'm getting into a bad habit of being saved by you.' And destroyed, simultaneously.

'Yes, you are.' 

'Gods, I'm tired,' I said, rubbing my eyes. 'How long was I out?' 

'Only a few hours,' she said. 'Plus however long before I found you. Hypothermia tires you out.' She swung her legs to the side of the bed and stood. 'Go back to sleep. It's getting late anyway. I'll sleep in the bed downstairs.' As she went to leave, she paused, lingering in the doorway. 'You know, after I couldn't find you...I told myself you would be dead to me if I ever saw you again. Don't get me wrong, I still think you're a scheming, traitorous, selfish prick, but...it's actually good to see you.'

Without giving me a chance to respond, she hurried out of the room, leaving me to descend into a long, dreamless sleep.

**********

I woke to Eira gently shaking me by the shoulder, and groaned in protest, feeling that I could have slept for days. 

'Come on,' she said, chucking some clean clothes on the bed beside me. 'Get up. You've had plenty of rest.'

'Why?' I muttered. 'Where are we going?'

'Solitude,' she said. 

I sat up, suddenly alert. 'What for?'

'I have civil war negotiations to make,' she answered. 

'What kind of negotiations?' 

'The kind that will make General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak come to a temporary truce so that I can deal with Alduin,' she said.

'What? Why?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Get up, get washed and dressed, and meet me outside, then I'll explain everything.' 

Dragging myself out of bed, stiff and aching all over, I did as she told me and took an opportunity to look around the house. Like Breezehome, it was decorated in typical Nordic fashion, but was about five times larger, and that was only above ground. Venturing into the basement revealed another vast room, stocked with mead, a dying forge glowing faintly at the back, and a huge slab of marble atop which sat the shrines of all the Divines of the Empire, including, to my annoyance, a shrine to Talos. 

'Taken to snooping, have we?' 

I whirled to face Eira, startled. 'How did you get down that creaky old ladder so quietly?'

'I didn't,' she said, rolling her eyes as I glanced at the shrines. 'And no, before you even ask, I don't worship Talos. Although even if I did, you'd have no right to object. It's for Valdimar and Sonir.'

'Fair enough.' I folded my arms and looked at her. The torchlight danced in her eyes, like a midsummer fire on the soft grass of my homeland. Clearing my throat, I looked away. 'If you didn't come from the ladder, then where?'

'Come on, I'll show you.' She crossed over to a wardrobe that was pushed up against the wall. As she flung open the doors she revealed a passage that led to a set of stairs, the walls adorned with banners and weapons mounted on plaques. 'Normally there's a false panel in this wardrobe, and a stone lever-activated entrance behind that to stop anyone undesirable from discovering the passage beyond. The lever is located in the bottom of the wardrobe, hidden by another panel. There's also a button behind that which, if pressed by some fool who didn't know what they were doing, would activate potent poison traps upon the entrance opening.' 

'So this is a hiding place I assume?'

'Correct. I had extended basements with these security systems fitted in my three largest estates so that I could hide myself and my family if enemies came after me.' She led me inside, illuminating the torches with a wave of her hand. 'There are plenty of spare beds, ample food and water supplies, and the area is completely fireproof.' 

'Impressive. Your own little subterranean fortress.'

She pointed left. 'Bedrooms that way. To the right is the library.' Continuing further down, we came across another pair of corridors. 'Storage, greenhouse and kitchen to the left, bathroom to the right. Everything you need to survive comfortably.' 

I nodded my approval. 'You could've locked me in one of these basements. Why put me up in Jorrvaskr?'

'So someone could keep an eye on you,' she said, leaning against the wall and raising an eyebrow. 'Look what happened when I left you on your own.' 

'Can we put that behind us now?' I sighed. Her expression turned stormy again, and I braced myself.

'No.' Eira folded her arms. 'You hurt me.'

'I didn't realise I commanded enough power over you to be capable of hurting you.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' She was glaring at me now, and suddenly I realised she wasn't the only one who was angry - I was furious, with myself, with her and her damned games, with the gods themselves for cursing me with the disease of love. 

'Why did it hurt? You resented me. The only reason we're in this situation is because I had to go with you for my own safety. It was a bargain that we never spoke aloud - you involved me in your political games, and I paid the price, so you owed me. I was never anything but an unwanted tagalong. So why, _almighty_ Dragonborn, did it hurt you to see the back of me?'

'Because I thought you cared about me,' she hissed, tears shimmering in her eyes. 'I thought that someone was finally trying to understand me. I was wrong.'

'No, you weren't.' These corridors were narrow. We were inches from each other, close enough that I could see the faint scars on her face, and feel her breath against my lips. 'I do care about you.' 

'Liar,' she spat. 'You said it yourself, you only came along for your own survival. The only reason you're here now is because I'm your only hope of escaping the Thalmor. I've been foolish to think your motives are anything but selfish.' She wiped away a tear that spilled down her cheek, cursing. 'You know, I can't blame you. I would do the same.' 

'You're wrong.'

'You even had to be drunk to write me a letter!'

'Every day I wanted to find pack up and find you.'

'Then why didn't you?!'

'Would you have wanted me to?' I growled. 'You would have slammed the door in my face if I'd turned up.'

'If that's the case, why did I drag my backside all the way out to the Sea of Ghosts to come and find you with nothing but an ale-stained letter to go on?!'

'Why don't you tell me?' 

'Because I don't know why!'

'Yes, you do.'

Pausing, she drew a shaky breath. 'It was an excuse,' she murmured, her voice bitter and faint. 'To get away from Vilkas.' 

'Is that what I am to you? An excuse to abandon your lousy marriage?'

'How dare you!' she yelled. 'Who are you to make judgements about my relationship with my husband?!'

'I am a man who has witnessed the misery that takes hold of you whenever he comes within ten feet of you.'

'How in Oblivion would someone like you know about misery? You privileged Dominion brat!'

I laughed coldly. 'If I'm a 'privileged Dominion brat', you're just the same. And as for knowing misery, it's shockingly naïve of you to assume I've not had my share.' 

'My heart bleeds for you,' she snarled. 'How terrible it must have been for your father to get you those high-paid jobs so that you would never have to live destitute on the streets, or for you to have had a mother to sooth you when you cried, or to never have a destiny that will probably lead you to death!'

'What exactly are you trying to achieve?' I snapped. 'Is this some sort of contest, Eira? Who is more woebegone? Enough of your stupid games.' 

'Stupid games,' she muttered. 'Get out of my sight.' 

'Gladly.' 

I couldn't have screwed things up more if I'd tried.


	19. A Night Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

We sat in silence for the entire journey to Solitude. Ondolemar was deliberately avoiding eye contact with me, appearing to take great interest in the scenery as we passed through Morthal, Dragon Bridge, past Mount Kilkreath, and finally arrived outside Katla's Farm. The sun had long since sunk behind the mountains, and faint stars flecked the sky in the east as the shadows chased away the fading day. Watching Ondolemar as he stepped down from the carriage, I noticed him glance upward towards the Thalmor embassy, unease on his face. 

'Come on,' I said, the first words I'd spoken to him since our argument in the basement. He glanced at me and followed me towards the city gate. 

'Stay out of trouble,' warned the guard as we approached the gate. I fixed him a glare, but said nothing; I was used to these remarks by now. Not that a guard giving a criminal a scolding would make them any less likely to break the law anyway. 

Inside the city, I marched on towards Proudspire Manor, wearied by the long journey here. It was frustrating to be able to see Solitude so close up from Windstad Manor and yet be unable to reach it quickly. Unless, of course, an encounter at a Thalmor party had left you on enough of a buzz to power your way across the Karth estuary against the flow of the icy water.

'We're dangerously close to the embassy,' Ondolemar finally said, piercing the silence between us.

'What choice do we have?' I replied. 'It's only for one night.' 

'Elenwen has eyes everywhere.'

'I'm aware of that,' I snapped. 'To Oblivion with Elenwen. Any of her cronies comes after us and they'll pay in blood.' 

'We can't fight them forever.'

'Watch me.'

Silence fell again. We approached Proudspire Manor and I fumbled around in my satchel for the key for a few moments. 

Inside, Jordis was lounging by the fire, and looked up at our entrance. 'Long life to you, Thane.'

'Jordis,' I greeted. 'Any unwanted visitors in my absence?'

'Indeed. Four Thalmor soldiers and a justiciar came here a couple of months back, and returned three weeks ago, demanding to search the house. Forgive me, Thane, I had to let them - they threatened my life.'

'It doesn't matter. Did they take anything?'

'No, Thane.'

'Good.' I put my satchel down on a bench near the door. 'We won't be staying long. I have business at Castle Dour in the morning, and we will depart shortly afterwards. You're free to spend the night where you wish.'

'Thank you,' she said. 'I will stay at the Winking Skeever.'

As she left, I grinned to myself. 'Thought so.' Rumours had been going around for months about her and Sorex Vinius - an unlikely pairing in many ways, but no less likely than Irnskar and Endarie, who were so obviously infatuated with one another that it was painful to be in the same room as them. 

Love. What a useless thing. 

Sighing, I turned to Ondolemar. 'You can take one of the girls' beds. I'm going to Castle Dour early so we can get out of here before we're noticed.' 

'Do you want me to come?' 

I searched his face. He didn't look angry anymore, just tired. 'You'll have to,' I answered. 'Unless you think you can take the Thalmor on alone should they become aware of our presence.'

'If Elenwen comes down with them, which wouldn't surprise me, the risks will be too high.'

'Very well.' I let out a long breath. 'Goodnight, then.'

He didn't reply as I turned away and headed upstairs to my bed. Since that morning, I had felt numb, blocking out the harsh words exchanged, the pain they had caused, the foolish tears I had shed. It hit me as I sat on the edge of my bed, and I put my head in my hands, letting tears flow freely but silently. They soaked my face, and the hands it rested on, my eyes stinging. What a fate, to love without being loved, when the one you should have shed your affections on was impossibly distant, and all you really wanted was to undo it all, unpick the threads, and cast them aside, start over, abstain from relationships altogether.

Tasting salt, I wiped the tears away. They were useless things. _Weak_ , I thought to myself. Legends don't weep. 

Reaching for the bookshelf I pulled a random tome down and placed it on the edge of the bed. I stripped down and scrubbed my skin before the washbasin in the corner of the room, wishing I could cleanse my heart, my begrimed, befouled, polluted spirit. 

Pulling on a nightdress from my wardrobe, I climbed into bed and opened the book, _Biography of the Wolf Queen_. Despite my fatigue, I knew I would not sleep for hours, so I didn't try. 

After a while, a knock came at my door. My stomach lurched. 'Yes?'

Ondolemar entered the room, his face solemn and formal, his posture stiff. I tried to repress the instinctive smile that wanted to form on my lips at the mere sight of him, wanting to be angry and bitter. 'I'd like to apologise for our...disagreement.'

Closing the book and putting it to the side, I sighed. 'No, you were right. I continued something that didn't need to carry on.'

'What I did was unacceptable.' He moved further into the room, the door swinging shut behind him. He glanced back at it and folded his hands behind his back. 'As was expecting you to act as if nothing had happened.'

I shook my head. 'It doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done.' 

'It does matter,' he said. His expression changed, brow furrowing, eyes gleaming in the half-light. 'Eira...I want to tell you why I left, but I can't. It wouldn't be right.' 

'Why can't you?' I asked gently. He looked at the floor, making a low hissing sound. I shifted to the side of the bed and patted the edge of it, inviting him to sit beside me. He obliged. Nerves fluttered in my stomach - he was so close now, close enough to touch...

'I can't tell you because it's not appropriate,' he explained. 'It's not _proper_. Least of all honourable.' 

'To Oblivion with honour, propriety and whatever appropriate is.'

'You would understand if you knew.'

'But I don't.' 

'I...' he trailed off, staring at me. The tension in the room was unbearable. The love in my heart was overwhelming, stretching it, threatening to explode. 

He rested his hand against the side of my face, and I found myself covering it with my own, my heart racing, blood rushing through my veins. This was the precipice of my failed marriage. I could choose to turn back, or jump off. In the end, I was pushed off, tumbling into a great ocean of feeling, as he leaned forward and captured my lips with his own, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling my body against his. I melted, a small moan escaping my throat, and wrapped both my arms around him. At last, I was alive, no longer holding back the flood, letting a surge of emotion break free.

Ondolemar pulled away from the kiss, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. 'Is this what you want?'

'Yes,' I whispered. 'More than anything.' 

The candles in the room flickered and died one-by-one, wrapping us in the envelope of the night, a tangle of limbs, threads of feeling stretching between us with every kiss, every touch, every heartbeat.

I didn't leave his arms that night, and knew I never wanted to leave them again.


	20. Nothing Else Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV
> 
> Sorry for the late update! I'm off for two weeks so don't have generous amounts of time to sit in my study room and write.

The first hazy traces of dawn light were streaming through the windows when I opened my eyes, finding Eira's form tucked snugly against mine, my face pressing into her hair. Proudspire Manor had grown cold overnight with the fire out, and I pulled the covers higher over us both, wrapping an arm around Eira and placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. She breathed the slightest sigh and turned over, blinking herself awake.

'Stars above,' she croaked. 'Dawn already?'

'I'm afraid so,' I whispered, pushing a strand of loose hair away from her face. She smiled up at me, running her hand along my arm and lacing her fingers with mine. Exhaling, she pulled me towards her and placed her soft, full lips on mine. I savoured her touch, her warmth, her taste. But still, as a bright bolt of sunlight appeared on the horizon and speared the room, the reality of what had just happened was clamping down on me. I pulled away from the kiss and lay back down beside her, my waking mind filling with questions.

'Eira...'

'I know what you're going to ask me,' she said. 'What am I going to do now? What does this mean? For me, for you, for...Vilkas.' 

'Yes.'

'Well, regardless of what this means about you and I...it's quite apparent that my marriage is over.' She rubbed her face, huffing. 'Not that it wasn't more or less dead anyway, but there's no coming back from this. My concern is how the girls will take it.' 

'When will you tell him?' 

'Soon.' Her gaze flitted to mine. 'And what about us?'

'I'm in love with you, Eira,' I confessed, watching her lips part and eyes widen as though shocked, as if I had not already shown it. 'I have been for some time.' 

'When?' she whispered. 

'Frankly? Probably from the very second we met, and I couldn't take my eyes off you. It hit me when we were in Riften. It's why I left you in Sentinel Falls. You were - are - a married woman. I couldn't have you, so I decided to leave, for my own selfish sake.'

'I wish I'd known,' she murmured. 'Couldn't you see I felt the same about you all that time?'

'Never for a second did I think that a living legend would be interested in a 'privileged Dominion brat' like me.'

Her responding laughter was music to me. 'Oh, for the gods' sakes, I was pissed off and heartbroken! Cut me some slack. But yes, you stole my heart, you bloody idiot, and now you've gone and made a mess of my life.'

'Well, it was high time I got back at you.' 

Eira rolled her eyes, but was beaming. 'I have a proposition for you.'

'Isn't it a bit soon?' I joked. She seized the pillow from behind her head and hurled it at my face, prompting a burst of laughter. 

'Not that kind!' she exclaimed. 'You should be so lucky. What I was going to say is that I never really explained what it is we're doing. Long story short, after you left I went to Whiterun. The palace there was built to hold a live dragon. I asked the Jarl if I could use the great porch to lure a dragon into the traps and interrogate him to learn Alduin's location. He agreed, but only in the event that I could call a ceasefire to the war.'

'How are you going to do that?'

'Arngeir agreed to host a peace council at High Hrothgar,' she explained. 'I am inviting General Tullius to attend, and we'll head to Windhelm afterwards and invite Ulfric Stormcloak.'

'Very well. Adventure calls.'

'That's the spirit!' She kissed me again and leapt out of bed, throwing on her clothes. 'Let's get out of here as soon as we can. I'm not in the mood for fighting the Thalmor today.'

'Agreed,' I said, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed to pull on my robes. 

**********

The sun had long since set by the time we reached Windhelm. General Tullius had been more than a little surprised to see me turn up in Castle Dour, having recognised me from multiple occasions at the embassy. He had said nothing, but kept making eye contact. I counted myself lucky that he hadn't sent someone to inform Elenwen of my location immediately. 

Inside the city, I found myself taken aback by the state of the place. Even by Skyrim's standards, Windhelm was a dump. A grey, depressing, and rather cold dump. That craggy wretch of a city Markarth was a shining jewel compared to this gods-forsaken slum. 

'Dire, isn't it?' sighed Eira as the city gate swung shut behind us. 'Welcome to Windhelm, a hive of poverty and racial hatred. When I told you I was a Thane in every hold, I excluded Eastmarch. For all I have done for the people here, I am no Stormcloak, and I am an Altmer. That is reason enough to prevent me from having any political power here.' 

'Ulfric is a fool,' I noted. 'He cannot win. If the Empire does not topple him, the Thalmor will.'

'Oh I know that,' said Eira. 'I read the Dossier on him in the embassy. A dormant asset.'

I glanced sideways at her. 'The Thalmor will topple the Empire, too,' I muttered. 'They will keep killing until Nirn is all but destroyed.' 

'I know,' she breathed. 'Come on, let's get inside.' 

She led me towards the building directly in front of us. Inside, the warmth from the hearth hit me, nauseatingly hot. Exhaustion was taking its toll. The woman behind the bar looked up at our approach.

'Need something?' she said. 

'I'd like to rent a room,' said Eira. The innkeeper glanced at me.

'For both of you?'

'Yes.'

'Just the one?'

' _Yes_.'

'Hmph. Sure thing, it's yours for a day.' The innkeeper stole a glance at Eira's left hand as she handed her ten septims, and a touch of uneasiness came over me. Eira's name was well-known, and her marriage to Vilkas was probably widespread knowledge too. What if word got back to him about us?

So what if it did? He would find out soon enough anyway. The worst thing he could do would be to try to get revenge, and he would be a fool to challenge me, and even more of an idiot to challenge Eira. He was nothing more than an egotistical sellsword hanging on to near-extinct ideals. 

The room was...rustic, to be polite. The timbers above creaked and the noise from upstairs was clearly audible. Suppressing a groan, I placed my satchel down on a table and watched Eira as she ran a finger along a bench and rubbed it against her thumb, observing the dust as it crumbled and fell to the ground. In the lambent candlelight, she was gilded, radiant, a statue standing still in the centre of the room, her face frozen by thoughts. 

Clearing her throat, she glanced up. 'Sounds like quite the party up there.'

'I shouldn't think we'll get much sleep with that racket going on.'

Grinning, she batted her eyelashes at me. 'We'll have to make our own racket, won't we?' 

A low moan escaped my throat and I pulled her to me, pressing my lips against her neck. She threw her head back and tangled her hand in my hair, the other one wandering, exploring. Her skin still smelled faintly of lavender, and tasted like honey. 

The world around us melted away. Light fizzled out to shadows, the sound above faded to a chorus of distant humming, and the only thing I was aware of was her.


	21. Amore Perit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

Heading for Whiterun from the western road as dusk settled over the plains, my thoughts turned to the moment I was dreading. How does one go about breaking vows they made just months ago? 

Vilkas had proposed the day we helped each other kill our wolf spirits in Ysgramor's tomb. As we'd sat side-by-side, exhausted from the journey and the fighting, he had taken my hand and kissed me gently, telling me that he loved me, and asking if I would do him the honour of being his wife. It was all very sudden, and we were tangled in the joy of freedom from Hircine's grasp. We had been flirting relentlessly for some time before that, prompting plenty of teasing from the rest of the Companions, but still, it had all happened so _fast_. At the time I had put it down to the marriage customs in Skyrim - couples seemed to marry quickly here - but what I now realised was that although I did have genuine feelings for Vilkas at the time, my main motive was a need to feel loved. A life devoid of lasting love had left a hole in my heart that ached to be filled. 

As we approached Jorrvaskr, I looked at Ondolemar, sighing. 'I can't tell him yet,' I whispered. 'The peace council is not for three weeks. I need to use this time to reconnect with my children and reassure them before taking them out of Whiterun and ending things between Vilkas and I.'

'I understand,' he murmured. 'Sofie and Sissel have to come first. Will I see you alone at all in that time?'

'Of course!' Stopping in front of the doors, I let my hand gently brush against his. 'But we must be discreet. Meet me behind Breezehome at midnight. Until then, don't do anything that could betray us.'

'Then I'll see you at midnight.'

Steadying myself, I pushed open the door and let the heat of the mead hall wash over me. The drinking was already well underway, as it was every night. Sofie was swinging a wooden sword against a shield held by Aela, who cheered praise whilst Sissel lurked at the edge, a glint of envy in her young eyes. Everyone looked up as we entered, and Sofie's sword clattered to the ground as she and Sissel flocked towards me. 

'Mama, you're back!' proclaimed Sofie. 'You never said you were leaving!'

'I'm sorry, girls,' I hushed. 'It was an emergency.' 

Sissel stepped back and gazed up at Ondolemar, awe lighting up her face. 'I knew you would come back!' she cried. 'Nobody believed me, not even Mama, but I said you would.' To my surprise, she threw her arms around him, and the shock on his face faded to a smile.

'You're back,' came Vilkas' voice, prompting a burst of nerves from my stomach. Looking up, I expected him to be staring at me, but instead he was focused on Ondolemar, anger furrowing his brows. As Sissel released him, Ondolemar raised an eyebrow at my husband.

'Sorry to disappoint you,' he drawled. 

'Disappoint?' echoed Vilkas. 'I for one am delighted to see you finally came to your senses and let my wife save your skin. Again.'

'She's a rather talented woman, wouldn't you agree?' The tension in Ondolemar's voice attracted the attention of the whole room, and Vilkas sneered. 

'Get out of my sight,' he hissed.

'It would be my _pleasure_.'

Ondolemar brushed past Vilkas as he passed to return to his old room, and I heard Vilkas growl quietly through gritted teeth. Forcing a cheery smile onto my face, I seized his hand and placed my other arm around my girls. 

'Enough of this,' I said. 'Today we celebrate! I have called General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak to a peace council at High Hrothgar on the 30th of Second Seed. This war will soon be put on hold, and I can deal with these dragons.'

'Indeed, this is cause for a celebration!' said Torvar. 'And more mead!' 

Sofie pulled at my hand and led me towards Aela, where she insisted on showing me her improvements in swordsmanship. I laughed as Aela pretended to be wounded and collapsed to the ground with a cry, whilst Sissel crept away into the shadows. 

As the night progressed and I put the children to bed, I felt two rough hands around my waist and whirled, hand on my dagger, to face Vilkas. He smiled.

'Did I scare you?' he teased. I fixed him a glare.

'Don't flatter yourself,' I drawled.

'So it's going to be like that, is it?' He withdrew his hands and I stepped away from him. 'I don't know why I bother.'

'Nor do I,' I hissed, crossing my arms. 'Is there something you wanted, _my dearest_?'

'No,' he growled. 'I thought I wanted to see you, but then you reminded me of what a cold, unfeeling swine you are.' 

'Ha!' I snorted. 'I have no time for for your useless moaning these days. Go away.'

'Whenever _he_ is around, our relationship goes in the gutter!' Vilkas spat. 'It's like you're a completely different woman to the one I married.'

'Why? Because I don't feel the need to repress how I feel? Because in a few months Ondolemar has come to know me better than you could ever hope to?' If discretion was my aim, I was doing a poor job of it, but I didn't care.

'Is that so?' Vilkas' expression was tempestuous, dark and roiling like a storm-churned sea. 'Maybe he and I should have a little chat.'

'Not like that, you bloody idiot,' I lied, panicking slightly. 

'Charming.'

'About as charming as calling someone an 'unfeeling swine', yes.'

'What's the point in us being married?!' he exclaimed.

'Be quiet, the girls will hear you!' I hushed. 'Are you saying you want to divorce me?'

'No! I'm saying what's the point in us being married if you're not prepared to accept our problems and work on them?'

'The little time I get to spend at home I would rather spend on my children than on you,' I said bluntly, looking down my nose at him. 'Sorry, but they're my priority.'

'Your priority is gallivanting around Skyrim with your Thalmor... _acquaintance_.'

'My priority is saving this gods-forsaken world so my children and countless others can grow up without fear of being burned alive or having to live under some oppressive dragon cult!' I exclaimed. 'I wouldn't expect you to know anything about it, seeing as whenever I try to tell you or invite you along with me you walk away!' 

'I've had enough of this.' He waved his hand impatiently and turned away. 'I'm going to bed.'

'That's it, run away again!' Anger was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. 'Pathetic.'

Storming out of the living quarters, I tried to steady my ragged breathing. I marched up the stairs, finding the mead hall empty, and clung to a chair, feeling like I might explode. Trapped. I was trapped in this miserable marriage. It was like someone was slowly taking the air out of the room, and I was suffocating a little more every day, still able to breathe, but barely enough to keep me alive. 

In frustation, I kicked the chair over with a growl. Ondolemar's door cracked open and I saw him peering out at me, an eyebrow raised. Sighing, I beckoned for him to follow me, and strode out into the embrace of the cool spring night.

'What has he said to you?' Ondolemar asked as he pulled the door shut. 

'He called me an 'unfeeling swine' and tried to tell me about priorities,' I summarised. 'The fool knows nothing - NOTHING. I shall be glad to rid myself of him. Of all the ignorant, stupid, pig-headed - '

'Calm down, Eira. Don't let him win.'

I sighed. 'You're right. Let's not talk about him.' 

Passing the Gildergreen and vanishing into the dark streets of the Wind District, I reached for his hand, my heart fluttering at the touch of his skin against my own. He drew closer to my side and we walked in silence, down the steps to the Plains District. I drew my hand away as we emerged into the light again and the guards eyed us curiously from beneath their helmets, watching as we made our way towards Breezehome.

'Lydia?' I called out into the house. She was in plain clothes and thin shoes, and rushed downstairs to offer me a courteous bow of her head.

'Honoured to see you again, my Thane.'

'You can go where you wish tonight.' I frowned as she looked between the two of us, an unasked question on her face. 'I'm sure Hrongar will be eager to have your company. Just make sure you're back by dawn.' 

Lydia's cheeks flushed. 'Um...yes, of course, Thane.' She grabbed a cloak from the back of a chair and dashed out of the door with a glance back at us. Left alone at last, I went straight into Ondolemar's arms and sobbed. 

'I didn't choose this life,' I whispered, sniffing as he stroked my hair. 'Why me? Why am I ordained to suffer?'

'This isn't forever,' he said. 'In a matter of weeks you will be rid of Vilkas, a ceasefire will be called and you will put a sword in Alduin's neck. Then you'll be free.'

'I'll never be free. If I can defeat Alduin, what happens after that? I'm proclaimed a hero and followed for the rest of my life by bards wanting to interview me and write stories about me? The Civil War ends and the Dominion turns on Skyrim with you and I at the top of its kill list? And who will be expected to be the symbol of Skyrim's strength in such times?'

'We all have fates,' he said, placing his hands on my cheeks and turning my face up so he could look me in the eyes. 'I used to think I was sure of mine, then you came and changed everything. Mark me well - I would die a thousand times upon the sword of a Dominion soldier for you, because my fate is to stay at your side and defend you to the last drop of my blood. You will never have to undertake your trials alone so long as I'm still breathing.'

Tears flooded my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as I smiled and leaned forward to place my lips on his. Love was a rose blooming between us, binding us together with briars and filling us with its drowsy perfume.

The door crashed open and we sprung apart. Wide-eyed, my heart sank as I caught sight of Vilkas in the doorway, his weapon drawn, face red and creased with rage. 

'So, the rumours are true,' he hissed, staring straight at Ondolemar, who had tensed, back straight, looking down his nose at my husband. 'I had refused to believe it. I had little doubt of my dear wife's loyalty. Yet here I find her, sneaking off into the night to the service of Dibella with another man!'

'Put the weapon down,' Ondolemar calmly ordered. Vilkas took that as an invitation to a fight and took a wide swing at Ondolemar, who knocked him off balance with a clean, crackling bolt of magic. Farkas was lurking in the doorway behind his brother, along with Njada and Ria, all making sure to shoot me filthy looks. 

'I'll tear you to pieces!' Vilkas croaked unconvincingly as he hauled himself to his feet. 

'Vilkas, stop it!' I yelled. He whirled on me.

'You,' he spat. 'You traitorous harlot!'

Ondolemar sprung forward and slammed Vilkas against the wall, prompting outcry from the other three Companions who rushed forward to try and pull Ondolemar off him.

'How dare you speak to her like that,' seethed Ondolemar. 'I should cut that filthy tongue out of your mouth, puny Nord!'

'Let go of him!' I pleaded with Ondolemar. 'He isn't worth it.' 

'Not worth it?' Vilkas laughed coldly. 'You know what? You two wretches deserve each other.' Ondolemar released him with a hiss, glaring as Vilkas crossed over to the other three, shaking his head. 

'Send my girls to me,' I told Vilkas. 'Ask Aela to bring them.'

'Your girls? You mean _our_ girls.'

'No,' I asserted. 'They are my children. I adopted them before you came on the scene. My money feeds them, clothes them, keeps them.'

'And who's been looking after them whilst you've been off around Skyrim with your...lover?' 

'Aela, by the look of things,' I drawled. 'If you won't send them down, I'll come and get them. Either way, they are coming with us.' 

'Fine. I'll be glad to get rid of every reminder of your existence.'

Reaching into my pocket, I drew out my wedding band, holding it up to the light of the sconces on the wall. 'Even Mara makes mistakes.' I chucked the ring into the fire pit, watching the flames dance across its surface. Vilkas mumbled inaudibly to himself and marched out of the house, the others in tail. Farkas paused in the doorframe and turned back to glare at me.

'You don't deserve my brother,' he said. 'And you don't deserve the Companions.'

'Piss off and mind your own business, Farkas,' I snarled, watching him pull the door shut and leave us in peace. I turned to Ondolemar, who was staring at the door with his fists clenched. 'I'm not staying here tonight.'

'Alright,' he answered, some of the tension leaving his face. 'Where will we go?'

'Heljarchen Hall,' I said. 'It's not far from Whiterun.' 

'I am sorry it had to happen this way.'

I reached for his hand. 'What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault. I'll bet my last septim that Elda gossiped to every traveller on the road about our stay in Windhelm and word got back here before we did. To be honest, I'm relieved. At least now I don't have to pretend.'

When Sofie and Sissel entered they came straight into my arms, visibly scared and confused. I caught Aela's eye and she gave me a pitiful smile.

'It's none of my business, Eira,' she began. 'But you deserve to be happy.'

'Thank you, Aela.' With that she vanished off into the night. 

'Mama, what's happening?' Sofie said, pulling my hand. 'Papa came in and woke us. He said we're not going to live with him anymore.' 

'That's right,' I replied. 'Vilkas isn't going to be in our lives anymore.'

'You mean he's not our papa anymore?'

'Exactly.' Tears welled up in Sofie's eyes, but Sissel just looked even more confused. 'Shh. Don't cry. These things happen. Everything will be alright. Get your cloaks on.' 

'Where are we going?' asked Sissel. 

'Not far.' They lingered, hesitating. 'Cloaks on. Now, please.' 

'Yes, ma.' Sissel darted to their little bedroom at the back of the house to retrieve two cloaks for them. 

'I'm scared,' whispered Sofie. Bending down to her eye level, I caressed her cheek with a smile.

'Of course you are,' I said. 'But you're also a brave warrior.'

'I'm not brave,' she said, shaking her head. 'I'm afraid.'

'Bravery is not being without fear,' I told her. 'Bravery is facing fear and overcoming it.'

Sissel came back in and handed me Sofie's cloak. I wrapped it around her shoulders, tying the strands at the neck into a bow, and teasingly pulled up her hood to ruffle her hair. She groaned in protest, yanking the hood down, and giggling as I pulled it back up. 

I looked at Ondolemar, who observed the scene with a smile. 'Are you ready to go?' 

He nodded. 'Ready as always.'


	22. Evgir Unslaad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

Three weeks passed quickly at Heljarchen Hall. I had mostly left Eira alone in the day with her children. The night was our time, our domain, when we could leave the troubles of reality behind and disappear into the embrace of darkness. 

The climb to High Hrothgar was harder than last time, probably because I had spent so long doing so little. Eira seemed to fare no better than I did, gasping for breath all the way up the seven thousand steps until the monastery came into sight, a grey mass looming in the mist.

She stopped before the final stretch, folding her arms. 'The others should all be gathered inside already,' she said. 'They were instructed to arrive no later than three o'clock. What time is it now?'

'It was just almost twelve when we left Ivarstead,' I answered. 'And we've been walking for at least three hours.'

'Alright. Let's head in.'

I followed her up the final flight of stairs, pausing outside the doors. Raised voices could be heard from within, and Eira glanced my way as she pushed open the door and we entered the dim light of the monastery.

'We know what path you've set her on,' Arngeir was saying to two others. 'But she has made a different choice. Paarthurnax is still safe from your malice.'

'For now,' replied a vaguely familiar female voice. 'The Blades' memory is long, as you know.' The woman and her companion turned to face Eira, and scowled as she noticed me.

'Delphine,' said Eira. I recalled the time I had met this woman and Esbern before, in the hours immediately after fleeing Markarth. It felt like a lifetime ago.

'We should get started,' she grumbled. 'Alduin is only getting stronger.' With that she turned and walked into one of the corridors leading away from the monastery, Esbern trailing her. Eira approached Arngeir and cleared her throat, as if to speak, but he spoke first. 

'So, you've done it,' he said. 'The men of violence are gathered here, in these halls whose very stones are dedicated to peace. They may put their weapons down for a moment, but only to gather strength for the next bloodletting. They are not yet tired of war. Far from it. Do you know the ancient Nord word for war? "Season unending"... so it has proved.'

Eira sighed. 'Lead on, Arngeir.'

He led us to a wide chamber full of tables arranged in a circle, where an unwelcome guest to the peace council turned to face us as we entered, eyes narrowed, then widening as she saw my face. An absurd combination of humour and terror twisted my lips into a grin while my heart hammered against my ribs.

'Madame Ambassador,' I greeted as Elenwen folded her arms and glanced between Eira and I. 

'You,' she breathed. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

'Don't talk to him,' snarled Eira. 'Move out of our way before I make you.' 

'My my, Eira Galethien, this is a peace council,' Elenwen purred. 'You could at least try to be civil. I know everything about you. I've traced your every movement from the day you were born to the day you arrived in this wretched country. Your father sends his regards, by the way.'

Eira snorted. 'Don't try me with those tricks.'

'Tricks?' Elenwen echoed. 'There are no tricks, my dear.' She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper, tied with a scarlet ribbon. 'He politely requested that I pass this on to you.' 

Eira frowned down at the letter and then snatched it out of Elenwen's hand with a snarl. 'I will know if this is fake. I would recognise my father's hand anywhere.'

'Good.' Elenwen's lips turned up into an ugly smirk as she turned her attention. 'Ondolemar, dearest, you look tired. Have you let yourself go?'

'Die,' I drawled. 

'How rude!' she chuckled. 'No wonder your parents refused to write to you.' My heart sunk, and it must have shown, because her face crumpled in mocking pity. 'Oh, I am _sorry_ to tell you, but they were just so crippled by shame to know you had betrayed the Dominion.'

'You know I was innocent,' I growled.

'There's no such thing as innocence. You chose lust over duty. Why the face? Half of Skyrim knows about your affair.'

'Shut your filthy mouth,' hissed Eira. 'Or I'll Shout you off the side of this mountain and watch you crumple against the rocks.'

'You will all crumple under the fist of the Thalmor.'

'You insult us by bringing her to this negotiation? Your chief Talos-hunter?' Ulfric was yelling as Arngeir tried to settle things down. 

Elenwen turned away from us and Eira gestured for me to follow her to the far end of the room, where we took our seats side-by-side, attracting a few glances from around the room.

'I have every right to be at this negotiation!' Elenwen argued. 'I need to ensure that nothing is agreed to here that violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat.' I made a point of hissing quietly, noticing the hostile glare she shot my way.

'She's part of the Imperial delegation,' said General Tullius. 'You can't dictate who I bring to this council.'

Arngeir sighed. 'Please. If we have to negotiate the terms of the negotiation, we will never get anywhere. Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn's input on this matter.'

Heads turned and all eyes fell upon Eira, including my own as I watched her with a fist balled over my mouth, occasionally glancing at Elenwen, who stood with her hands folded behind her back. 

'Are we going to let Ulfric dictate terms to us before the negotiations even start?' Tullius demanded of Eira.

'This is about more than you and Ulfric,' she answered. 'The Thalmor have no place in Skyrim's politics.' 

'I can't be making concessions before negotiations even start,' Tullius growled. 'It makes the Empire look weak!'

'The Empire _is_ weak,' I muttered under my breath, not quietly enough to avoid furious looks from the General and Legate Rikke beside him, and a subtle jab to my thigh from Eira. 

'Enough,' Eira said to Tullius. 'Ulfric is right. Elenwen leaves now.'

The Ambassador rose and laughed to herself. 'Very well, Ulfric. Enjoy your petty victory. The Thalmor will treat with whatever government rules Skyrim. We would not think of interfering in your civil war.'

She turned and left the room, grinning at me as she rounded the corner. A tense knot in my stomach relaxed, and I let out a long, relieved breath.


	23. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

The sun was setting as we reached Ivarstead, bathing the Rift in a fiery glow that illuminated the eternally golden leaves of the trees. Ondolemar and I had exchanged few words on the way down the seven thousand steps, though I had noticed him stealing glances my way every so often. I didn't much feel like chatting, so I held my silence until we crossed the bridge over the Treva River, which shimmered copper in the sunlight. 

'Shall we stay here the night, or carry on back to Heljarchen Hall?' I asked him.

He shrugged. 'Whatever you would prefer.'

'Well, I don't mind. That's why I'm asking you.'

He frowned slightly. 'It's your choice.'

'For gods sakes,' I muttered. 'Are you going to spend the rest of your life just doing what I want?'

'Excuse me?'

'You heard.'

'What's your problem?' 

'My problem?' I snapped. 'What's yours? I asked you a simple question and you seem to be incapable of making a decision!'

'Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little?' He drawled. 

'Exaggerating?' Flustered, I placed my hands on my hips. 'All I did was ask you a question!'

'And all I did was nothing.'

'Exactly!'

'What do you mean, 'exactly'?'

'Do I need to spell it out for you?'

'Mara's mercy,' he grumbled. 'Whatever in Oblivion is wrong with you, kindly refrain from taking it out on me.'

'Nothing's wrong with me!' I yelled, making heads turn from inside the village. 'You're the one who's winding me up!'

'How?!'

'By being indecisive!'

'You decide then! By the gods...'

'Shut up.'

'Don't you dare speak to me like that,' he hissed, making me jolt with surprise. 'If you think I'm going to tolerate disrespect you can think again.'

'I'm not one your soldiers-in-training.'

'Then stop acting like one and quit playing games with me.' He folded his arms as I turned away and leaned over the bridge, huffing. 'Eira, what's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

'Tell me.'

' _Nothing_.'

'It's the letter, isn't it?'

'No!'

'Why haven't you read it then?'

'It's fake.'

'You don't know that.'

'Yes I do.'

'Alright then, if it's fake, throw it in the river.'

I turned to glare at him. 'What?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'If you're so sure that the letter is fake, get rid of it.'

Hesitating, I rubbed my thumb against the palm of my other hand nervously. Ondolemar sighed.

'Would you like me to read it to you?' he asked. Eyes narrowed, I studied his face, but found no sign of anger or irritation. I held the rolled up letter out to him and he gently plucked it from my hand, untying the ribbon and flattening it out. 

' _Eira,_

_Words cannot express the depth of shame I feel at having learned of your actions since deserting the Thalmor. First Emissary Elenwen made sure to send me a full overview of your movements between then and now and as such I have felt compelled to send this letter to inform you that I am in ill health, and news of your actions in Skyrim makes me iller still._

_What possessed you to leave the honourable position you were given among our ranks? I colluded with your silly aspirations to pursue alchemy and this is how you repay me? All for the sake of a useless Bosmer rebel, no less. Elenwen informs me that he is deceased. I hope it was painful._

_Now I hear you have attracted the title 'Dragonborn' from the filthy Nords who inhabit the wretched land you now make your home in. I care not for what that means. To me you are nothing. Better..._ ' 

Ondolemar trailed off, staring down at the letter with wide eyes. 'Go on,' I told him. 

' _Better that you had died, and your poor mother had lived._

_I know not how much longer I have left in this mortal prison, but know this - every breath that I take is filled with disgust and dishonour from the knowledge of your existence._

_Your former father,_

_Lorcarion Galethien_ '

In the silence that followed, I reflected on the words - I could certainly imagine Father saying them, in that cold voice of his that has so often preceded punishment in my childhood. When he spoke, it was with the sharpness and precision of his whip as it cracked against raw flesh. He mostly used it to beat prisoners, and kept it on a rack on the wall behind his favourite chair as a reminder of what he was willing to do for the Dominion. Once, he had used it on me. For my own good, he claimed. 

In all my youth I'd had little love for the Thalmor. I couldn't say why I hadn't been brainwashed like so many others - perhaps it was because of my father, always walking around in his robes with a stern expression, and keeping my mother's old uniform carefully wrapped in silk, as though her role in their ranks had been the most important part of her. When he had wanted me to join, I spoke ill of them in front of him, and he seized the whip in anger and lashed out at my face. The pain was unbearable - blood had rushed to the wound, swelling my face, purple flesh closing over my left eye for days. The scar had been the only thing the face sculptor had not been able to eradicate when I fled to the Imperial City after Thaduin's death. 

'Well,' I finally said. 'He hasn't said anything I didn't already know.' 

'Is the writing his?' asked Ondolemar, handing me the letter. I took it from his hand and traced my thumb along the cursive of the words, so much like my own handwriting. 

'Yes, it's real,' I sighed. 'But it doesn't matter anyway. I have no father but Auriel.' Summoning my magicka, I pulled flames out of my skin, burning the letter up into a neat pile of ashes in the palm of my hand. As the fire died down I stared down at the ashes for a moment before casting them into the river, the wind helping to carry them downstream. 

'Good riddance,' muttered Ondolemar. 

'I'm sorry I snapped at you,' I said to him, taking his hand. 'It just got to me, that's all.'

'It's alright,' he replied. 'To answer your earlier question, we only have around half an hour of daylight left. I'm willing to journey through the night if you are, but if you don't feel alert, we should stay at the inn.'

'Let's stay at the inn then,' I said. 'It's been a long day. Maybe Wilhelm will give us free drinks again if we have enough of them.'

Ondolemar chuckled and wrapped his arm around my waist, placing a kiss on my cheek as we walked into Ivarstead. 'I am NEVER getting that drunk ever again.'


	24. Cruel Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

When we reached Whiterun, the atmosphere between us had tensed again. Not wanting to stimulate her temper, I kept quiet as we walked through the city. I sensed she was afraid, walking more slowly than usual up to Dragonsreach, turning her head towards Jorrvaskr as we passed its stairs. The scent of hot steel drifted down from the Skyforge on the wind, reminding me of times spent in the mead hall's training area at night with Sissel when the forge rested and that smell began to die away. Sofie had come to watch us once, and had refused my offer to teach her too, adamant that warriors don't do magic. 

There was already a crowd gathered inside Dragonsreach in front of the Jarl's throne - clearly word had got out about what Eira was going to attempt. People in travelling clothes bickered amongst each other, all having come from far and wide for a sight of a dragon in what they probably assumed were safe circumstances. Many were from outside of Skyrim. Plenty of Whiterun's citizens were milling about too, ignoring the guards who told them to leave, including most of the inner circle of the Companions. Vilkas glared at me as we approached Jarl Balgruuf's throne, and I rolled my eyes, which only seemed to irritate him further.

'What are you doing here?' Eira said, looking at him through narrowed eyes. 

'You're about to trap a dragon,' he answered. 'And I want to see.'

'Is it the dragon you want to see, or me?'

He laughed coldly. 'Don't flatter yourself, Eira. The sight of you is detestable to me.'

'Leave, then,' she said, shrugging. 'You're the least important person in this room right now, Vilkas, though you may try to convince yourself otherwise.' 

'I'm going nowhere.' 

'Vilkas,' Aela growled from nearby. 'Let Eira do what she needs to do and step out of their way.' 

'This has got nothing to do with - '

'It has everything to do with me,' Aela snapped. 'At the very least, Eira is still our Harbinger, and deserves more respect than you're giving her. Let them pass.' 

Vilkas muttered to himself but moved out of our way, not taking his eyes off me. I decided against giving him the satisfaction of returning the stare, and didn't want to test my own temper. 

Eira let out a sigh as we approached the Jarl. 'Are you prepared?'

'As I promised, my men stand ready,' said Balgruuf. 'The great chains are oiled. We wait on your word.'

'Then let's catch ourselves a dragon.' 

The crowd were held back from following, except for the Companions, who were probably only allowed in as extra support if the capture should fail. I could feel Vilkas' eyes on me the whole time, irritation building up in me like water behind a dam. Once, I'd had to control my anger, when I was in the lower ranks, when I wasn't the one in charge. That changed when I became a commander, and the only other military personnel I interacted with on a daily basis were my inferiors, and I was allowed to bark at them all I wanted. In fact, it was encouraged. To 'make those children into proper soldiers', Elenwen had once said. Not adults. Not people with an identity of their own. Soldiers. That's all the Dominion wanted - children that people like me could train into brainwashed, meaningless killing machines, who wouldn't think, wouldn't speak, wouldn't question. 

As we continued through Dragonsreach I thought briefly of the last time I saw Auridon - shortly after my promotion, I was sent back home to the training facility outside Vulkhel Guard. There are no pleasant jobs in the Thalmor, but it was one of the less unpleasant ones. For me, at least. The kids I whipped into shape would probably say otherwise. My own training commander had been harsh - I had gone many days without food or water for repeated failures, and if anyone ever dared step out of line or speak out of turn, it earned them a beating. I never dared.

The Great Porch as I'd heard it called was already prepared. Guards stood before an enormous chain pull on the platform around the wide space. Above us hung some kind of structure made of wood and iron that I gathered was the trap. Eira looked up at it contemplatively, biting her lip.

'We're ready when you are, Dragonborn,' said Jarl Balgruuf as the doors closed behind the strangely excited-looking court wizard. 

Eira nodded and looked back at me, smiling, and I beamed back at her as she turned away and walked towards the end of the Porch, feeling my heart flutter. To the Altmer, beauty was traditionally elegant, delicate, like spirals of glass or crystal. But true beauty was strength of the spirit, and Eira had enough of that for everyone in Tamriel. 

She stopped at the edge, placing her hands on the stone wall and bowing her head, preparing her Voice, steadying herself. When she lifted her head, she Shouted 'Odahviing!' to the sky, readying her weapon.

In the stillness that followed, it seemed a collective breath was being held among we who lingered near the door. I saw guards glance nervously among themselves beneath their helmets, their swords drawn. Glancing around, I caught Aela's eye, and she offered me a small smile of acknowledgement, looking away hastily. 

'Get back!' Eira yelled from the front of the Porch. 'Clear the way!'

We darted to the sides, clearing the centre as a thunderous roar sounded from the sky and Eira began to walk backwards, sword in one hand, a ward in the other. My breath caught as the dragon came into sight, lowering itself onto the stone. This was nothing like the creature I had watched her slay before - Odahviing was much larger, and most of him was a furious shade of red. 

'Dovahkiin,' he growled softly as Eira brandished her sword, backing away. Odahviing crawled forward, impossibly fast, following her towards the trap. Eira began to run backwards, stumbling a little, gritting her teeth and slashing the dragon's face as he gnashed his teeth at her. He recoiled, hissing as she stumbled further back, then launched himself at her. 

'Now!' yelled Balgruuf. I glanced up at the guard above me, who hesitated, and rushed up the stairs, pushing the boy out of the way and yanking the chain. The trap crashed down upon Odahviing, who roared with rage, crying out in Dovahzul. 

'Nid!' he bellowed as I descended the stairs. 'Horvutah med kodaav. Caught like a bear in a trap...'

Eira caught my eye as I lingered at the edge of her vision. 'Alright,' she sighed. 'Let's get this over with.'

**********

'Faas nu, zini dein ruthi ahst vaal,' said Odahviing as he was released from the trap on Eira's orders. My heart was pounding in my chest as she turned to look at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

'I'd better get going,' she breathed. 'Alduin's only getting stronger.'

For all we cared, we were all alone up there. No crowd, no Jarl, no dragon to watch us part. She rushed forward into my arms and I held her close, wondering if this could be the last time I ever saw her, feeling sick. 

'Come back to me,' I whispered, feeling her nod, her head buried against my shoulder. The injustice of fate - if only I had acted on my feelings sooner. If only I hadn't run away and wasted a month we could have had together. If she died at Skuldafn I would take a thousand regrets to my grave, but that would be the worst. 

'I love you,' she said, looking up and placing a hand on either side of my face. 

'I love you too,' I replied, feeling tears sting at the corners of my eyes, though I tried to fight them. I tapped the amulet she still wore around her neck. 'Auriel made you Dragonborn for a reason. You are stronger than Alduin.'

'I hope you're right, my love,' she sighed. 'If you're not, you know what to do.' 

'I am right.' Leaning forward, I kissed her softly, not caring for the eyes that watched us. They could all go to Coldharbour. As we parted, my cheeks were wet with her fallen tears. She stepped back from me and turned to Odahviing.

'Saraan uth,' he said. 'I await your command, as promised. Are you ready to see the world as only a dovah can?'

'I'm ready,' she replied.

'Zok brit uth! I warn you, once you've flown the skies of Keizaal, your envy of the dov will only increase.' 

Eira climbed up onto Odahviing's back, visibly shaking, her lips pressed into a thin line. She held my gaze, and as I blinked I felt the tears I had been holding back roll down my cheeks. Odahviing backed out of the Great Porch, turning to face the sky, and she looked back at me one last time. 

'Amativ! Mu bo kotin stinselok!' he declared as he beat his wings and carried my beloved away into the clouds with a roar. My knees gave way beneath me, vision clouding, and I felt hands trying to hoist me up. Shaking them off, I yelled for them to leave me be, until one by one they left, and I was alone on the Great Porch with my sorrow, sobbing, hating destiny, hating the gods, hating myself.


	25. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV

The Throat of the World materialised around me, my blood still rushing from the fight with Alduin, my instinct firing as I saw I was surrounded by dragons. But they didn't attack me - they were calling out to the sky. Whether they were mourning their fallen leader or acknowledging the power of my Thu'um, I didn't know. My exhaustion prevented me from caring overly. I merely kneeled there in the snow, breathing heavily, listening to their clamorous roaring, not caring for the cold that sunk deep into my bones, or the icy wind that stung my skin. 

'Alduin mahlaan!' they cried. 'Sahrot thur qahnaraan. Alduin mahlaan! Dovahkiin los ok dovahkriid. Alduin mahlaan! Thu'umi los nahlot. Alduin mahlaan! Mu los vomir.'

One by one they flew away, aimlessly, without one among them worthy of leading. They must have known it was pointless trying to carry on Alduin's legacy as long as I lived, the strongest of all of them, the dragon without wings. Paarthurnax landed beside me and spoke, something about trying to guide them by his Way of the Voice, but I barely registered it. He too took to the skies, roaring into the snowfall. 

Beating wings sent waves of frigid air towards me and I looked up, seeing Odahviing hovering above me. 

'Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein,' he said as he landed in front of me, claws digging into the snow. 'I wish the Old One luck in his...quest. But I doubt many will wish to exchange Alduin's lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax's 'Way of the Voice.' As for myself, you've proven your mastery twice over. Thuri, Dovahkiin. I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um. Zu'u Odahviing. Call me when you have need, and I will come if I can.' 

He reared up his head and beat his wings, taking off into the sky, circling above then vanishing into the clouds. Knowing I would catch my death in a most unheroic fashion if I stayed up on the mountain, I forced myself to make the climb back down to High Hrothgar. 

**********

In my absence it seemed news of my task had reached across Skyrim; as I had walked through Ivarstead, I had been hounded with praise and gratitude, and by travellers on the road. I braced myself as I returned to Whiterun, smiling at guards who stopped and stared at my passing. The stable hands said nothing, watching in awe as I hiked up the hill, struggling with exhaustion from the journey.

'Oh!' gasped Lydia as I rounded the corner onto the drawbridge and near enough collided with her. 'You...you've returned? It's done?' 

'It's done,' I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Speechless, she stared after me as I passed, then followed me back into the city. The guards exchanged glances as the door swung open and every head in sight turned. 

'The Dragonborn has returned,' I heard Adrianne say to Ulfberth, putting down her hammer. Braith and Lars tore into the clearing but ground to a halt as they beheld me. 

'Where is Ondolemar?' I asked Lydia. 

'I'm not sure, my Thane,' she replied. 'He didn't stay at Breezehome.'

The children ran away yelling, announcing my return to the whole city. Soon a crowd gathered, following me up to Dragonsreach, chanting my name. 

'Blessed!' exclaimed Heimskr. 'To have seen the land of the gods and returned to tell the tale! To have walked in Shor's halls and seen the mists of Sovngarde! Blessed by Talos are you, Eira Galethien, to hold the title Ysmir as he did, Dragon of the North - '

'Quit your religious ranting, Heimskr!' hissed Anoriath. 'We're saved!' 

The guards held them back from following me as I reached the stairs up to Dragonsreach and started my ascent. Every step was a struggle now. I wanted to sleep, desperately. 

The warmth of the fire pits inside was unbearable after trekking through the heat of the early summer sun, and I found myself clinging to one of the guards for support as a wave of dizziness came over me. Perhaps those travellers had been right when they told me you get used to Skyrim's harsh weather enough to find the summers as hot as the ones you once knew. The guard stared in shock for a moment before helping support me up yet more stairs to the main hall of Dragonsreach. Balgruuf stood from his throne as I approached. 

'It is done?' he marvelled. 'The World-Eater is slain?'

'Alduin is gone,' I breathed. 'The world will see a new dawn.'

'By the gods,' he murmured. 'Despite seemingly impossible odds, the Last Dragonborn stands here in victory against Alduin himself, firstborn son of Akatosh. Hail to you, Dragonborn, hero of all Tamriel and beyond!'

'Have you seen Ondolemar?' I asked the Jarl.

'Last I heard he was drowning his sorrows in the Bannered Mare all day.' 

'With my coin,' I muttered, smiling to myself.

'Nirn owes you a great debt,' Balgruuf said. 'But I fear this is not the end of your trials, my friend. This war still blights our land, and the Thalmor wait for its end to launch upon Skyrim in her weakened state. I suspect it will be you to whom we look in times of strife.' 

'I know,' I said. 'I have already accepted that.'

'Where will you go now?'

'To my children first,' I said. 'Then I will go wherever I am needed.'

'Then go. Find a new destiny to fulfil, Eira Galethien.' To my surprise, he bowed, deep and low, and Proventus and Irileth shared a glance before they did the same, hands over their hearts. 

'Thank you, Balgruuf.' 

Turning away, I walked back into the waning light of the evening, ready to head to the Bannered Mare. Descending the stairs and passed back through the cheering crowd, to which Mikael the bard now joyously sung 'The Dragonborn Comes', I halted as Ondolemar charged up from the Plains District, his face flushed red and eyes wide with shock. 

'You're back,' he breathed, coming closer.

'In one piece, no less,' I said, beaming, my heart light with joy, feeling a surge of strength rush through my blood at the sight of him. 

I screeched as he swept me off the ground as though I were light as a feather, throwing my arms around his neck. The world around us faded out as it always did in these moments, when nothing else mattered. I kissed him hungrily, feeling almost feverish, desperate for more closeness than anyone could ever achieve, wishing I could simply melt into him. I was vaguely aware of the crowd making teasing cheers and whistles as he carried me down to the Plains District, as though I were not a hardened dragonslayer but a flower-crowned bride. 

'I hear you've tried to replace me with Colovian Brandy,' I joked as we pulled out of the kiss.

'Replace you?' Ondolemar murmured. 'Let me know when they concoct something strong enough to do that.'

I smacked the back of his head playfully, giggling in the stupidly girlish way I do. 'Cheeky sod!'

'Would you have me any other way, my dear?'

I smiled, caressing his cheek as he kicked open the door of Breezehome, a tear of happiness trailing down my face. 'Never.'


	26. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ondolemar's POV

The following couple of weeks was the only break either of us had had since that day at the Embassy, and it was bliss. We went back to Heljarchen Hall to be with Sofie and Sissel and retire from the world whilst it recognised Eira's victory. Uthgerd returned from errands in Whiterun with news of celebration in the holds of Skyrim, then in Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, Morrowind, and beyond. No news came from the Summerset Isles, of course. Would the Aldmeri regime even allow their citizens to know the happenings of the world beyond?

Probably not.

Though the feeling of having been saved from either engulfment or enslavement by the dragons would probably not wear off for some time, there was still a war to be fought, and clearly neither Ulfric nor Tullius had forgotten this; two riders came on the same day, one a legionnaire, the other a rebel, to entreat Eira to join each of their causes as the fighting commenced once more. 

'I'll have no part in this war,' Eira declared over dinner one night. Gregor was outside keeping watch, and Oriella had gone to the Burning of King Olaf in Solitude. 'The outcome is irrelevant. Whatever happens, the Dominion will come. When they do, that is when I will take up arms.' 

'Can I fight the Thalmor, Mama?' asked Sofie, an eager glint in her eyes. 

'Certainly not,' said Eira. 'A battlefield is no place for a young lady.'

'But I'm a warrior!'

'I know you are.' Eira beamed at her sulky expression. 'But the best warriors must learn to use their heads before their swords, hmm?'

'Yes, Ma,' Sofie grumbled.

'Ondolemar, can we practice magic now?' Sissel asked.

'You haven't finished your food,' I said, raising an eyebrow.

'I'm full!' she protested.

'Alright, no dessert for you,' teased Eira.

'What dessert is it?' 

'Your favourite.'

'Apple pie?' Eira nodded, and Sissel immediately seized her fork and began to wolf down the remaining food on her plate.

'You'll give yourself a stomach ache,' I warned her, to no avail.

'Mama?' said Sofie.

'Yes, little one?' Eira replied.

'Why don't we see Papa anymore?'

A flicker of irritation sparked in me at the mention of him. I caught Eira's eye as she sighed.

'Do you remember what I told you when we came here?'

'You said he isn't in our lives anymore.'

'That's right.'

'But why?'

'Because...' she trailed off, blinking and biting her lip. 'Because we decided it was best.'

'Don't you love each other anymore?'

Eira wiped a hand across her face and sniffed. 'Love is very complicated. You two will learn that when you get older. Sometimes people have to go their separate ways.' Her chair screeched against the floor as she pushed herself away from the table and stood. 'Why don't you two go and play a game whilst we clear up? Just make sure Gregor is watching you.'

'Yay!' cried Sissel, overjoyed at the exemption from their usual chores. She beckoned a more sullen Sofie outside, and I looked pitifully at the dark-haired girl as she shuffled out of the door.

'That isn't the first time you've been questioned, and it won't be the last,' I noted, stacking plates. 

'I know,' she huffed, rubbing her temples. 

'When are you going to tell them?'

She shot me a glare. 'Like I said yesterday, I'll tell them when I'm ready.'

'The longer you leave it, the more damage it will do,' I argued. 'They deserve to know the truth of the dynamics in their own home.'

'It's easy for you,' she snapped. 'You're not the one who they depend on.'

'Don't start on me again.' 

'Then stop telling me how to parent my children!'

I rolled my eyes. 'One minute you want me to tell you what I think rather than supposedly going along with what you say, and the next you disregard my opinion altogether. What do you actually want?'

'Some space would be nice.'

'Space?' I echoed. 'If you're sick of me after two weeks to the point where you need _space_ , then perhaps I should go.'

She shook her head, exhaling. 'I'm not sick of you. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just stressed and worried and overwhelmed.'

'Then why don't you try talking to me about it rather than biting my head off?'

Eira placed her palms flat against the table and leaned against it, head bowed. 'They haven't come. I expected them to come, either to kill me or try to earn my favour. They can't have missed the news; they have eyes everywhere.' 

No need to ask who. 'Elenwen's intelligent enough to know fighting you with just a few sub-standard soldiers and Justiciars is a waste of time. Alduin was little less than a god, and you killed him, so what chance would they have? If they wanted your favour, they'd have come knocking with an offer by now. They want you dead, but they'll need an army.'

'Will they wait until the war is over?'

'Probably. You'll be the prime target when they attempt an invasion. They know if they can kill you, they'll destroy the hope of Skyrim's people.'

Eira snorted. 'Those pricks should be so lucky. Even if they did manage to kill me, all they would do is make people even angrier and even more determined to destroy them.'

'Don't worry about this for now. We don't live in the future.'

'Still, I think we should move somewhere safer.'

'Like where?'

'I'm thinking the College,' she answered. 'It's out of the way, inconvenient to get to, easy to defend, and well-supplied.'

'Sissel will think she's dreaming,' I noted. 'Sofie won't be so pleased.'

'She'll get to do her combat training. I want them both to be given a well-rounded education anyway. Kids in Skyrim seem to be allowed to do what they want all day if they're not working with their parents, but not mine.'

'When do you want to leave?'

'I'm not sure yet. I'll send word ahead tomorrow.'


	27. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eira's POV
> 
> This is the last chapter! I will never be updating this ever ever again. I'm pretty sad about it. But not too sad because I'll be starting the sequel tonight :D

Of course I had to endure another round of praise and thanks when we reached the College. It's not that I didn't appreciate the appreciation, so to speak, but I'd never liked excessive swarms of attention. Excusing myself from the crowd and leaving faculty and apprentices alike to interrogate Ondolemar, I led Sofie and Sissel out of Winterhold's everlasting cold and to the Hall of Attainment, where I was pleased to find an additional bed had been placed in my old room as I had instructed.

'Here we are,' I said. Sissel darted in to the room, her eyes gleaming with wonder, and she investigated all the shelves and cupboards, marvelling at the robes, the shrine to Julianos, the magical texts I had never taken the time to alphabetise on the bookshelf. 

'It's everything I ever imagined!' exclaimed Sissel, plonking down on one of the beds. 

'There's nothing for warriors here,' grumbled Sofie, still lingering beside me in the doorway. I took her hand and coaxed her into the room. 

'Actually, I've arranged for you both to have combat lessons,' I said. Sofie's grumpy expression lightened a little, but she narrowed her eyes.

'With who?'

'A man called Kraldar,' I answered. 'He's a nobleman and advisor to the Jarl, and has agreed to teach you both.'

'I don't wanna learn combat!' protested Sissel. 

'You'll learn it,' I scolded. 'It's important to know how to defend yourself.'

'I can do that with magic.'

'What about when your magicka runs out?' 

'I'll drink a potion.'

'In the middle of a battle? Your enemy won't stop and wait for you to drink it. You _will_ learn combat, just as Sofie will learn basic magic.' I almost laughed at their simultaneous groans. 'Come on, it's late. Time for bed.'

'Can we have a story?' asked Sissel.

'Of course, which one?' 

'Make one up,' Sofie requested.

'Hmmm...alright then. Once upon a time, in the faraway land of Akavir, there lived a friendly dragon.'

'What was his name?'

'Uh...erm...Snowberry?'

'That's a silly name!'

'Alright, alright, his name was...Yoldurviing. Anyway, he lived on a mountain all alone, because everyone thought he was a nasty dragon so didn't want to be his friend. One day, a young warrior named...uh...Yao Gong of the Tang Mo people came to challenge Yoldurviing to prove himself. Seeing that the dragon had no interest in fighting, Yao Gong mocked him and called him a coward, but the dragon told him that his brothers had forsaken him and left him in Akavir alone for centuries. Yao Gong took pity of Yoldurviing and the two became good friends. When the vicious snow demons, the Kamal, awoke from their slumber to try and enslave the Tang Mo, Yao Gong rode Yoldurviing into battle, and together they destroyed the Kamal and saved the Tang Mo.'

'Can we go to Akavir Mama?' asked Sofie.

'No, definitely not.' 

'Aww, why not?'

'Because there are lots of dangerous people there. The Kamal, the Tsaesci, goblins...anyway, it's time to sleep now. Goodnight, girls.'

'Goodnight,' they chimed back as I stood and left the room, blowing out the candle and surrendering the room to darkness.

**********

When I woke in the early hours of the morning, I found the bed empty beside me, still warm. Rising and pulling on some loose clothes, I went up to the balcony, where Ondolemar was leaning against the stone wall, looking east, where the sky was starting to lighten to a dull grey, heralding the new day. 

'Magnificent view, isn't it?' I said as I approached him, folding my arms against the chill. 'Sometimes I've come to sit up here with my lute and play it to the stars. When I was a little girl, I would climb up on the roof of our house in Firsthold to speak to them. They were my only friends, and to this day they remain my oldest.' 

'You can see all the way to Morrowind,' he said, nodding towards the silhouette of the mountain against the backdrop of the waking sky. 

For a few moments, we stood in silence. The breeze lifted again, sending goosebumps across my arms, and I shivered. Ondolemar noticed and put his arm around me, pulling me to his warmth. We stood and watched the east as the first rosy shard of the sun appeared on the horizon, casting shimmering gold across the vast snowy landscape of Winterhold. Somewhere in the distance, a hardy bird took up its morning song.

'Now we wait,' said Ondolemar. 'For this civil conflict to end, and see what comes of it.'

'We'll be safe here,' I replied. 'Unless the Stormcloaks try to shut down the College should they gain control of Winterhold.'

'They don't have the resources.'

'It's not exactly a big city with a fully-stocked garrison,' I pointed out. 

'I think Ulfric wouldn't dare touch the College from fear of losing your favour.' 

'True.' The sun was fully up now, the light catching on the amulet around my neck. 'In the meantime, I'll send word to Aela that I wish to hand over my place as Harbinger to her.'

'Why?' asked Ondolemar, frowning. 'Did your predecessor not specifically entrust you with the position above all the others?'

'What use am I to them up here? Besides, it means I can fully disconnect from Vilkas. There will no longer be any reason for me to go to Jorrvaskr if I am no longer a Companion.'

'How do you feel about that, though?'

'Sad, of course, but it has to be done.' I sighed, pulling away from him and leaning against the stone. 'Sacrifice is nothing new to me. My priorities are all here now.' 

'The invasion won't be imminent,' Ondolemar said. 'The Thalmor won't be stupid enough to attack Skyrim without their full force knowing that you're here. They may seem like the sort to overestimate their capabilities, but the truth is they aren't risk-takers. Everything they do, they do with a clear shot at victory. That is how they have been so successful.'

'Well not anymore,' I said. 'Because in a worst case scenario they'll be up against every able-bodied person in Skyrim, plus someone who could easily take control of a few dragons and decimate their forces from the air. In the best case, the forces of the Empire will join us. And then, when the snow is stained red with Thalmor blood, we will drive them out of _every_ province in the Empire. And when Tamriel is free of the Dominion's tyranny, we'll go to the Summerset Isles and rip out this regime's beating heart.' 

Ondolemar smiled. 'Fear not, we have years yet to lay waste to the Dominion. For now, let's enjoy the time we have.'

I beamed at him. 'Deal.' 

Squinting into the sun, I pictured the black silhouette of a dragon crossing the light, red eyes turning to glare at me as the memory of a deafening roar threatened to sever me from reality. I winced, knowing the fear of that moment in Sovngarde wouldn't leave me anytime soon. Even with the heroes of the Hall of Valor by my side, I had thought myself a dead woman. 

But I wasn't dead, I reminded myself. I was alive. I had won. And if I could win against Alduin, the Dominion stood no chance.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and there we have it. Thank you to everyone who read this and gave it Kudos and comments and stuff, especially SoulStealer1987 who has commented on almost all of the chapters religiously and has helped keep me motivated in the last month and a half or so it took to write this :)


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